Shattered Hope
by jixer
Summary: Something is angry and won’t let Tara go or help as things close in on Buffy and Dawn. Be warned-this is rough on everyone.
1. Chapters 1 to 3

Title: Shattered Hope

Author: Jixer

E-mail: jixer@attbi.com

Feedback: Please. This is my first fanfiction. Bouquets and brickbats welcome

Distribution: Any free fanfiction site 

Spoilers: Up through the end of Season 6

Rating: Hard PG-13

Pairing: W/T and "old" W/X remembered 

Disclaimer: All characters of BtVS are owned by Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. All I own are tattered books, the love of a good woman and a few pots of tomato plants.

Summary: Something is angry and won't let Tara go or help as things close in on Buffy and Dawn. Be warned-this is rough on everyone.

Note: Numbered chapters are Tara's P.O.V. (with heavy self reproach, earned or not) while titled chapters are narrative.

Shattered Hope

Mind the Threefold Law you should,

Three times bad and three times good

I think of the Rede a lot these days. Promises, debts and mistakes made before death demanded an accounting.

I found the love of a woman with more power than I could ever hold, but I was afraid to teach her, afraid to correct her until it was too late. I was afraid she wouldn't want me if I did. She touched the darkness and it swallowed her.

I helped bring back Buffy, knowing it was wrong. 

I told Dawn I'd always be there for her, never imagining the little sister of my heart would find me cold and dead.

I found a family and accepted both their protection and their love, but never wove the painful, draining protective spells that would have outlived me more than a few days.

I promised my mother I would never forget her rules of magic she taught me so carefully. Sorry Momma.

I think about those things in the night as I watch over Buffy and Dawn. No, to watch over them would mean that I could warn them, protect them, comfort them. I can't do that or anything else here. I can't touch anything or make myself heard no matter how hard I try. Magic isn't mine anymore either, I guess taken away in death because I didn't deserve it. No one sees me of course, unless they're at the moment death takes them.

I'd rather Buffy and Dawn didn't see me for a long time.

I think I'm between realities. I can go with either Summers anywhere and at any time. I don't know how I'm moving in time from Dawn's day's end to Buffy's beginning on the same day. I can go back in time also, strong emotions to strong emotions, back in a chain to the time of my death. I can't go past that. There have been a lot of strong emotions for both girls in the last four month's since I died. I don't like going back.

I have to be with them. The spells I did weave when I ran away from the woman I loved were weak things, I realize now. But those useless protective spells tied me to my true family. For some reason an unknown power has decided that, as useless as I am, and was, I should go with them through their now. Time is moving us towards an enormous boiling mass of cloud that I can see everyday in the instant I move between the last two members of my family that I can reach.

Dawn is the hardest to be with. Her days start at seven with a loud clang. To me it seems jarring, an assault of hateful noise. For her, it just means a day of carefully monitored boredom and substandard education in the Sunnydale Juvenile Center (High Risk Section). She's in "Jack" because a week after I died Dawn was feeling lonely and depressed. I was wasn't there for her; Buffy and Xander were tied up with Willow and wanted Dawn away from the house for a while. She went out with Arabella, one of her "friends" who knew about her shoplifting. 

It took a lot of convincing to get Dawn into the store, but once there she was happy, busy looking at things she knew she could never have. I saw her feel the softness of one silk blouse and hold it as she looked around. Then she let go, squared her shoulders and said "I'm going" to Arabella. I felt so proud of her then, as if I had a reason to be proud of anything she did. The other girl shrugged her shoulders and walked out with Dawn, but Arabella hadn't made the same choice my Dawn made. 

That's when everything came apart.

A man reached out and grabbed Arabella by the arm. Before he could say a word the girl screamed and Dawn came to her defense with the partial strength of a Slayer, something that started to manifest when someone else was in danger. The blow knocked him backward and bounced his unconscious body off the glass display window, leaving him slack and bleeding from a scalp wound. Dawn looked at him as Arabella ran away and only then saw the badge of a policeman. 

He was a rookie, on his first day of undercover work, alone while his trainer was getting coffee. He's alive and can eat solid food again, but he hasn't come back to police work. 

She isn't a bad girl. She freaked and tried to help him, unfortunately with the untrained strength of three men. The police sergeant who was supposed to be with the rookie saw something else. Dawn froze when she looked up and saw a pistol pointed at her. The fear in her eyes was unbearable. It's the second worst moment I'd had until then. A hungry junior District Attorney tried to charge her as an adult for assault with intent to kill. 

It cost Buffy every bit of equity she had in the house on Rivelo to get an attorney competent enough to keep Dawn out of an adult jail or worse. The hearings were swift, mostly because Arabella's family could afford a suite of lawyers good enough to shield their dear child and ruthless enough to throw a known thief to the ambitions of the junior DA. She's here until she's eighteen. I already knew I can't scream loud enough to make anyone hear me by then. Can't cry loud enough either. 

After the noise, roll call and showers (no I don't look, underage - _eeww_) it's a greasy breakfast then sullenly on to classes she could pass asleep. Only in the dank, tiny gym does she come alive, but it's a feral girl-child who goes straight for the heavy bag. After the first bag ripped the bullies finally left her alone. So does everyone else. She just puts on her tough girl mask and goes on.

She had made one friend here, Gwen, a mouse of a girl Dawn protected. Gwen belonged here less than Dawn, and I think that's what made Dawn come out from behind the "tough girl" mask. She had found someone to protect, talk with and to care about. As Gwen talked about her life, Dawn found out monsters sometimes come in other forms. [Poverty and neglect were just words for her. They become real when a friend tells you how brave you are after losing all your wealth and loving family. 

Gwen trusted Dawn enough finally to talk about seeing a monster attack someone, biting the victim's neck. Dawn told her about vampires and Gwen didn't call her crazy. That's when I realized Dawn might have had study buddies and friendly acquaintances but the Scoobies were the only friends she had. We had been people she could talk to about being frightened by vampires or dealing with demons. Anyone who believed her and could be a friend would be in danger, and she wouldn't do that. She's like her sister.

Dawn also found out about other things when Gwen told her about a "boyfriend" that had almost used her up. But it was O.K., Gwen insisted, because he had problems in the past and she loved him. It was better now and he would get Gwen out. Dawn feared she was right about the last.

Dawn's fears were true. I wonder if the Slayer dreams Buffy has are now starting with Dawn. He got Gwen out. I thank whatever power watches out for Dawn it was her court appointed psychiatrist, Dr. Humphries, who told her that the police had found Gwen's body. Gwen had fought back, Humphries told her, knowing it would give Dawn a tiny bit of comfort. 

I saw it. I followed her despite the wrongness I feel when I'm not with my family. Dawn liked her and she was a nice girl, almost too smart and caring. I found myself trying again even though I know I'm useless. Gwen fought until he broke her arm, then she huddled under the blows, crying, "I'm sorry" again and again. After a while she was quiet. I think I heard a tiny "I'm sorry" before I scuttled back to Dawn. She was writing a letter to Gwen when I could look up from my tears.

After that Humphries added Dawn to a Wednesday group session. Dawn refers to it in the journal she's keeping again (one notebook only with one pen and one pencil, both locked away if she gets too many demerits) as the Further Education of Dawn Summers About Real Life. Some of these girls' lives make parts of Gwen's story sound joyful.

After these long months she seems as hard as any of the other "children" here, but I know her heart. I know she took in Miss Kitty for me and hoped the cat would give Willow something to care about. I also know how badly she sleeps. In her sleep, there are no masks or postures to protect her against the darkness in her dreams. She's a girl, almost a woman alone in a scary place. I think it's the girl that dreams the most and calls out softly, urgently for her Mom, for Buffy and sometimes for Giles or Willow. She cries out "Tara!" nearly every night as well.

When she calls out for me I reach out to her, every time. And every time she can't hear me, can't feel me. That horrific sight of me dead in Willow's room, our room once again for too short a time, must be playing again in her mind and I can't make it go away. Then these useless tears start to fall to nowhere. My soul seems to shred when I see her cry in the darkness. That's when I know I've been truly damned.

Buffy is almost as easy to follow. Eat, sleep, work and slay. I think Dawn is the only thing keeping her mostly alive. Each morning she gets up in a tiny apartment, works out in the dark, dresses (still not looking, it's _Buffy_) and eats too little before she opens the Doublemeat Palace.

Work seems just to fill time for her. The creditors and old bills are always just around the corner so Buffy's paycheck leaves nothing extra for her. She's here everyday, no days off. The guys all think she's gay because Buffy won't go out with any of them. I think that's the closest I get to humor anymore. After eight to twelve hours, eight hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays when Dawn can have visitors, in the grease and steam she changes (nope) and heads out to patrol. 

Buffy lives for those two days. This is when she can check into a grim building on the outskirts of Sunnydale and see Dawn. They get three hours instead of one together because Dr. Humphries, a man with cocoa butter skin and a heart that has room for all these kids, has made Buffy part of Dawn's counseling sessions. At the end of the visit, Buffy gets on a bus and heads back into town and out into the twilight.

Those two nights she visits, she makes a point to stop at one of those taco trucks that seem to be everywhere. Ernesto knows her now and his two little girls who stay with him while his wife works even give her shy smiles as they look up from their coloring books. The old Buffy peeks through then.

The only other stop she makes now is to buy a handful of flowers every night. I dread that because I know what comes next.

First she walks past the house where she lived. There's another family living there now, and I wonder if there's a girl asking for funny shapes on some mornings and rounds when she needs to know she's home in a troubling world. I think they're good people because they've taken Miss Kitty in as theirs. I can't bring myself to look inside those windows though, and neither has Buffy.

Then we head for the main cemetery. I don't know why vampires aren't showing up anywhere else. The rotation is always the same these last months. 

First she goes onto the older section. I start to hurt the moment I see the Star of David. They found her a week and a day after my funeral, her head pillowed on my marker. She'd found a stupid, sappy love letter I was writing to her. Buffy and the rest were involved with Dawn's legal problems. Xander especially was torn and trying to help too many people. Willow, smart and bright girl that she was, put on the drama of recovering from her pain.

I remember how I found out about my limitations during the three days before she died at her own hand. With her magic nearly broken, she had used botanicals and science. I watched her make the potions disguised as a chemistry experiment. The Scoobies felt relief as their old friend took up her favorite pursuits again while I begged, pleaded, prayed, cursed and finally just screamed and cried. Willow never heard me, none of them did. My hands couldn't stop the brewing of the potion nor keep it from her lips.

No one else knew that for a second as she died my Willow looked at me and saw me. She said my name with love, reached for me- and something tore her away before we could touch. I tried to follow her, my screams echoing hers, but she was taken somewhere this nothingness won't let me get to. 

Buffy takes an eternity here and brushes away more tears as she places the flower on the cold granite. "Will-" she starts, regret and reproof warring in that single sound, then she sobs and walks away.

The next stop is Spike's old crypt. I'm not sure what Spike became, I can't open books or do research. Willow and Xander were hotly divided when I listened in; Willow sure he had a soul and Xander almost fearful that he did. All I know is he was usually decent to me, even when teasing. Whatever he was, Spike or William, he fought for her. She never trusted him in the time they had and that tore at him. He was with her for just days when two huge scaled somethings caught him alone at twilight. He didn't see me, I think because it was so quick at the end when one of the beasts slashed off most of his head.

I tried to distract them, to give him a chance. I was useless as usual. Buffy found dust and his torn leather coat in the backyard. For a second as she cries and stoops with a flower in a shaking hand I hear his short scream again, pain and dying and losing her all in one rending noise. 

Xander is next, a cheap tiny marker in the new section of the cemetery. He never got what he deserved, even here. It was a car wreck four months ago, but only I know it was a demon, in the guise of a child, that made him swerve into the concealed truck's path. Everyone else, even Buffy, thought he fell asleep from overworking, trying to help her and Dawn.

Her last friend dying because of her has torn Buffy up so much I think she's only just now recovering a little. She lays a flower down and says, "I'm sorry." 

I remember his death, him looking at me for half an instant. I think I heard him telling someone far away to wait, his friend was back there and she was crying. Then he was gone. It was the second time I'd been seen. 

I remember how safe I felt when he stood up to Donnie the night I realized I had a new family, based on love instead of blood. I remember him hiding behind me as Willow and Anya snapped at each other and tried to draw him into the middle. I remember him trying to reach Willow through her pain after I was killed. He saved the world, and I love him but I couldn't bear to watch their night together. I had to be away from the sight of my love in another's arms. But I'm glad it was him. He gave me hope for a little while. 

When Buffy walks away she passes Anya, or rather Anyanka, but I'm the only one who seems to know she's in the oak tree.

I thought Anya was going to be a point of hope. She left with Giles to give herself some time and space. Vengeance had soured for her and she was looking for another way. Giles is brilliant, and at magic Anya proved to be a good student. I couldn't understand why they never talked about binding to the earth. I finally guessed Anya had more power than I thought. I hoped they would do anything that would let someone know I'm here. 

The Watchers asked them to look into the Hellmouth. Anya and Giles shone as they worked together. Anya brought a new way to look at magic; she used graphs and the rest of a businesswoman's analytical tools. Giles was all tradition and observation. They made strides that were astounding to me. I was worried about the Hellmouth but Giles was the expert about it.

Then, just after they started, the Watcher I don't trust at all, Travers, delivered one item he said was from another Hellmouth to help' them with their research. He unwrapped a box made of small bones. I saw the clouds around it. Anya hated it, but couldn't say why. It frightened me to my core.

Then in one day I lost all hope. I was just following Anya; shocked and lost when they heard the news. Dawn's troubles had made them think about coming back, but Giles never did. Then they heard of Willow's death. Giles blamed himself; Anya felt guilty and tried to reverse the death without telling Giles. She moved carefully through the first part of the spell, not calling straight for the powers themselves, but going respectfully. At the point she touched her new power fully for the first time, the box of bones snapped open and closed. Anya fell to the ground, the box vanished, and I lost my connection to my friend. It felt like I fell forever.

I wonder if Buffy ever thinks about Anya. We saw her at Xander's funeral. His parents blamed Anya of course, but she didn't listen. Anya was, well, broken. Buffy tried to speak with her but Anya was too far-gone and just drifted off. Afterwards I saw her as Anyanka just walk into the old oak over the rise from Xander's grave. She's never come out. I don't know how she became a vengeance demon again.

There's a tiny pull from her now, but I can't seem to find her in the oak. I miss her though, even as Anyanka.

Then it's a slightly larger marker nearby. Mine. Buffy used to talk to me, apologizing for not taking the bullet, saying how I would do a better job with Dawn, wishing me and Willow a happy long time together. Every word a brand on my soul. Eventually she stopped talking to me. Now it's just a flower and another soft, heartfelt apology in a word. I tell her it's not her fault out of reflex, hoping without hope someday she'll accept that.

It's the same every night. I admire her even more now as she goes on trying after losing all of us in a few weeks

A short distance away the last flower goes on Joyce's grave. "I'm sorry Mom." I'm sorry too, Joyce. I should have done better by your daughters. They're both good people, better than I am, um, was.

This takes less than half an hour from the time she slips over the fence. By then the true darkness has fallen and Buffy starts to move through the darkness like a predator. I don't know this stuff very well but I think she's slaying harder if that makes any sense. There's no banter, no wasted motion. It's all ruthless efficiency and final death. She has a few books from the Magic Box but Buffy never researches her opponents anymore. It's just killing, and lots of it. Watching her fight out numbered and hard pressed makes my heart (if I really have one here) race in fear that I'll watch her die too.

Something seems to be making more frightening things every night to go with the increasing numbers of vampires coming to Sunnydale. Things that can't see me, Goddess bless, but make me screech anyway. There are too many things for one tiny young woman to stop as they stalk the innocent.

But she keeps beating them all so far.

Then, almost as if a class bell rang, the night empties of the evil things and Buffy heads home for too few hours sleep. I can't get over the feeling she is being tested to destruction by something lurking where I can't see. I never quite shake off this feeling even as Buffy locks her door and cleans up (still no). Usually then, she falls into bed and a light sleep. When we're lucky.

The bad nights are when she's been hurt. The Slayer healing takes hold quickly but it's never fast enough these days. Buffy lies there and looks at a small table near her bed. It seems strange and sad to see the pictures of her family and the Scoobies that were once scattered about in a real home in a cluttered almost shrine on that tattered table. Her tears start to flow very quietly, politely almost, when she looks at those pictures for very long. 

I don't know how long Buffy can keep this non-life up. I keep trying to soothe her, comfort her, and console her. One day I still pray I'll help her and Dawn. That day I'll get out of Hell.

Chapter Two

Today didn't feel different. I know it's a Monday because Dawn gets new uniforms on Monday and the breakfast "meat" is the cheapest eggs scrambled in thin milk. Dawn saves the best of the uniforms, neon orange jumpsuits for the HROs (High Risk Offenders, my education continues), for Buffy's visits. She tries to stay interested in class but the books are at least twenty years old and the teacher is a burnout case that drones on in a monotone. Dawn tries though. Demerits cut down on her time with Buffy.

Lunch is a sandwich, bowl of soup and a pop. Then she goes to more classes, these with student teachers from UC Sunnydale. Dawn struggles to keep attentive and not fidget as the brief time they get in gym approaches. I'm disturbed by the way she seems to turn into something predatory on her way to the gym. 

Once there, as usual, no one gets between her and the heavy bag. For almost the entire half hour she hits it nearly as fast as Buffy, not as hard as her sister but at least twice as hard as any of the older male teens who follow the girls. I know the other girls talk about her. The gossip is ridiculous; I won't repeat it.

Today though one of the matrons seems more attentive than usual. Something makes me nervous about her. Dawn does her homework just as reluctantly as always after her gym time is over. Then dinner is in a carefully watched dining area. Dawn sits at a table that grows quieter when she arrives. The conversation is strained, the girls only using the F word three or four times in a sentence (I'm still not used to that after all this time). 

The matron is back and checks Dawn into her cubicle (don't call them cells) after dinner. I see her make a sign behind Dawn's back and touch just the edge of her hair at the collar with a tiny silver disc. Magic, I'm sure and I feel panic setting in, but nothing seems to happen. The matron looks down at the disc after Dawn is locked in and raises an eyebrow. 

"Nothing." She mutters and smiles smugly. I snap something rude at her but it doesn't make me feel better. 

For the first time since she's been here I don't finish the day with Dawn in the linear time flow. I follow the woman back to her apartment in the most expensive complex in Sunnydale. The utter wrongness of not being with my family seems to moderate slightly. She goes into a room that makes me think I must have a heart here since I feel it freeze.

Wards and charms are everywhere, with an empty frame with points of light dancing in the emptiness in the center of the room. There's a tang of blood just under the edge of knowing in the air. Black magic, blood magic at that and she's touched my Dawn. I throw every spell I can remember at her. You can guess the results.

She strolls to the frame and the lights disappear, to be replaced by the roiling black clouds I see in the future. I step back, startled, right through two of the wards. Nothing happens. The woman touches the frame just above a tiny needle. A single drop of blood appears briefly and then the clouds fade away.

I expect to see a demon or monster, not a thin man in a trim three-piece suit at a large desk. He looks tired, but he straightens up and smiles politely at the woman.

"Good evening, Miss Grey." He says in a tone that makes me think of Mr. Giles.

"Sir, I have good news," the woman says smugly.

"That would be welcome," the man answers. 

In the background I can hear what sound like alarms. The man glances away and the image flickers. He waves his hand and the clarity comes back.

"In brief, sir, the Key is almost ready," she says in a rush, "still unwarded, and now nearly full strength. It's still close to the target nexus known locally as the Hellmouth."

"Better than we could have hoped, Miss Grey," the thin man says in a clipped tone. "especially after our previous disappointment. What about the chaotic element of this Slayer?" 

"Chaotic but very fascinating," a new voice interjects. "We need to get some more data on her before we extract. These Slayers will be very useful, especially as assassins. The DNA and simulacrum are extremely promising. Actual nerve tissue samples would be appreciated, some spinal column would be best. Oh, and the cerebrum or most of it."

An older woman peers around the edge of the view of the frame. Her image and her words make me think of an evil librarian.

"Can you do that and not jeopardize the operation, Miss Grey?" the man asks.

"I had planned to use a mix of demons and vampires over the next four nights," Grey explains clinically. "I anticipate being able to finish the stress profile and provide the samples. I'll change the mix of creatures to maximize the chances of collecting the subject's head intact."

The way she says it makes me feel it's a forgone conclusion Buffy is going to die like Spike. I'm thankful for the small kindness that I can't throw up here. 

"Will our interest attract scavengers?" the librarian asks with distaste. "I'd hate to have the experiment tainted."

"I'm keeping the Slayer under observation only during the combat for data collection, Ma'am," this cold woman answers. "Since her supports have been removed she has become predictable and no longer needs to be observed. The Key has no magic around it (at this, I actually say "Bitch!" out loud) and no one will look for it where it is now."

"Excellent. Thank you." the woman nods absently.

"Miss Grey," the man asks, "has this secondary extraction data been checked again? If these figures are correct the old benchmark of 1985 will be left quite in the dust."

Miss Grey lifts a finger and a monitor appears in front of her in a ripple of red and gold light. The texture of the flash and the colors nag at me, but the images scream. There, a picture of Willow from her high school days starts a complicated chart, and at the end is Dawn's mug shot. Miss Grey gestures and the images change to a spreadsheet before I can touch Willow's picture.

"I have the Key being able to convert the base dimension and an additional thirty eight secondary dimensions of Class Three or above before critical thermal failure," she said dryly. "The secondary dimension cascade failure rate of will be forty percent. Locally there will be an increase in the demon count but the flux will destroy all the vampires. I doubt anyone will miss the control mechanism."

"Her name is Buffy!" I scream in hopeless rage.

"Enough magic for forty one years, current consumption." The man gives a small smile. "Once opened we may even be able to hard extract within economically feasible parameters."

He looks away for a moment. "I have the time til extraction of one hundred twenty five hours and six minutes. That will be under deadline and under budget. Very well done, Miss Grey."

She recognizes dismissal and gestures at the frame. The clouds come back for a moment, then the tiny lights dance in the emptiness again.

I ask a dozen questions as she makes herself comfortable in a stuffed chair inside a chalked circle on the floor. She gestures and half a dozen candles burst into flame. Then with casual ease she calls a book from nowhere and flips through the pages. I hear her whisper something about good venom and claws but very weak hips. She ponders her choice like a shopper with a catalog. Miss Grey nods. 

"Good tactical analysis test," she says as she claps her hands together.

Across the circle pieces on a chessboard move. Three pawns and a black knight move against the solitary white queen. 

I race towards Buffy, for once not at her side through the day. I come to her as she stands from Willow's grave. Even with fear crowding everything else out I feel the familiar heartsick pain. I try to warn her. I think I'm losing my mind as I babble. I scream, "Please let her hear me!" into an uncaring night. The vampires are upon her just as she leaves Joyce's grave.

They don't last even as long as usual. Then something between a nightmare and an old horror movie slides out of the dark and misses her by inches with its claws. Buffy rolls away but a stinger whips out and grazes her leg. Buffy staggers and rolls behind a large headstone. She stops moving.

"Buffy, get up," I beg.

"Tara, I'm too tired." she whispers. But her lips don't move.

"WHAT?" I scream.

"Don't yell... Tara?"

"Buffy," I try to calm myself and fail. "Buffy for God's sake listen. You know the old oak tree just west of Xander's grave?"

"Yes." she replies sounding puzzled.

"Go there and wish for justice for the murder of Xander Harris. Ask to talk to me. Please, please, please understand. I can't make you hear me otherwise." I'm crying now, but with a tiny hope for the first time in months.

"Xander was murdered?" Buffy asks in a small voice.

"Yes. Anya will hear you there. They're after you and Dawn. This thing has weak hips." I wonder what else to say in the time I have left as she suddenly shakes her head.

"Tara, weak hips?" She whispers as the demon looks up. 

She looks around and calls my name. Then the thing lumbers into view.

I don't know what to call the low kick Buffy delivers but it takes the monster down hard enough to stun it. She gives it a blow to the head with an axe. The quiet night sounds slowly return to the cemetery. Buffy looks at the demon for a second. Then it starts to crumble. I suppose the test is done and we don't want unwelcome attention now, do we?

"Weak hips." she says. "Tara?"

She waits for a moment in the night, absently rubbing her leg, and then Buffy walks over to the oak tree, looks up into its branches and walks around it. She stops and in a clear voice she says "Anyanka! I wish for justice for the murder of Xander Harris."

Anyanka's just there, no flash or noise. I miss her but I never get used to seeing her as a demon. 

"Murder?" Anyanka hisses softly. "It was you and your jailbird sister. That's what killed him."

"Tara told me he was murdered," Buffy explains tightly. "But now I can't hear her."

Anyanka shouts something and my name in an angry tone. Then they both look at me and jump back.

"Tara," Buffy whispers and reaches for me. I lose it, falling to my knees and crying happily, feeling an elation I never thought I'd know again, I reach for her too.

"Don't!" Anyanka shouts and Buffy stops. The demon looks at me with a touch of fright, or perhaps disgust. I suddenly wonder what I look like now.

"Tara's not a ghost or even a wraith." Anyanka explains. "She's hard to keep focused. Your touch could snap the spell. Whoever did this to you must hate you, Tara."

I feel myself wilting. I had so wanted to touch someone in my family one more time. Then I smile. At least they can see me. I barely compose myself and look up at Anyanka.

"Thank you, Anya," I say more sincerely than ever before.

Anyanka says something and the night grows quiet again. 

"It's a time holding spell," the demon explains. "Now what's this about Xander being murdered."

"He was coming home when a child ran into the road," I say trying not to feel the loss. "He swerved and a truck came out of nowhere and hit us. Then the child was a demon and he vanished."

"I'm sorry," I finish. "I tried to do something but..." 

"No." Buffy says flatly. "I should have seen the danger and gotten him out of here."

"Stop it both of you!" Anyanka shouts angrily. "Have you both been beating on yourselves for all this time? You've gotten really good at it. You two didn't kill anybody, for crying out loud. Don't get maudlin, get really, really angry."

Buffy looks at her for just a second. Then the little blonde nods weakly, then slowly a feral smile lights up her face.

"You're right." She tells Anyanka in a voice that sounds like Buffy for the first time in a long while.

I just smile.

Chapter Three 

Anyanka gestures and all of a sudden we're sitting at the table from the Magic Box, only it's just the table and three chairs in a pool of light. I start to breathe just a bit faster, trying to concentrate on anything but looking to my side for a redhead who won't be there, laptop and books scattered in front of her.

"Sorry, Tara," Anyanka says as she changes to look like Anya. "I can make it something that won't remind you of her."

I just shake my head.

"Let's get this done," Buffy says softly. "Tara, tell us everything you remember about that night."

I go on for a little while, keeping just to the facts. I tell them about Miss Grey. Buffy is curious, but her pain over Xander's death pushes the new threat into the background for now. Finally we wring out the story of the wreck. Anyanka can slip through time too, but it seems to drain her. She goes back and forth twice to check things out I've seen but couldn't investigate. She doesn't quite have enough power to get to the wreck in time, but she can get close and cast spells. For Buffy it's confusing to see our friend just pop up a slightly different position, a bit more tired each time.

Anyanka may look like Anya except just after magic but she feels different, like an edge of anger runs through her. It may seem silly and ignorant, but feeling is one of the things I can do now.

Anyanka steels herself and heads back one last time. She comes back angry when she goes to look at (and stop, if I'm reading her right) Xander's accident. She can't get near the accident. 

"Damn it!" Anyanka says panting as she slumps in her chair. "I can't get through at all, like someone knew I'd, ah, look into this mortal matter. And the magic is so slick and so brute force it..."

She looks away a moment. "1985, it's 1985 again. I was hoping Tara got the date wrong, but it's not."

"So who's behind this," Buffy asks, "and why are you so worried about 1985?"

"I don't know who's doing this or how," Anya says uncomfortably, and then she sighs. "As for 1985, we dimensional travelers don't talk about it. But three worlds or dimensions or whatever you call them just collapsed in 1985; or at least the 1985 that existed here and used to there. Six others nearby just lost all their magic. It's never come back." 

"But the magic has to return if things still live there," I say quickly, remembering my mother's lessons. "Not to mention natural magic in some soils and rocks."

"It never has here," Anyanka says uncomfortably.

Anyanka gestures and a picture of a city of wrecked buildings appears. In the mid-ground a dozen scrawny adults look outward, each with a weapon. A couple of tiny, pinched faces peer from around some organized rubble with a stout door.

"Oh." Buffy and I say together.

"There are a few enclaves of humans starting to rebuild," Anyanka says quickly, "but the rest are bands of scavengers."

"I'm going to try something," Anyanka says suddenly, with a thoughtful smile. "Back in a minute."

She blinks out and Buffy turns to me. 

"That still wigs me a bit, all that bamphing," she says lightly. 

"She's been doing this for years," I answer. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

"What about you?" Buffy asks earnestly. "Can you go anywhere or anytime you want?"

"Only places and times connected with people I put under my useless protection spells," I answer bitterly.

"You couldn't have known, Tara," Buffy answers gently.

I just look at her. I want to believe her.

While we're talking Buffy almost unconsciously picks up the photo of the wrecked world, and then stares at it. The moment lengthens in silence. 

"Momma," she says softly. "I should be there."

The next "Bamph" is more a crunch as the light goes out for a split second and Anya is there, human again, curled up in a fetal position on the grass in the night time cemetery with both of us. She's whimpering and Buffy reaches out to her. Anya grabs it like a lifeline in a raging storm. For a second she just huddles in Buffy's embrace.

"We've got to stop them," Anya whispers. "They're going to take everything, everything. They're going to burn it out. They're going to empty everything in dozens of worlds through the Hellmouth. Demons are getting in but you can't escape. Walls are going up across the dimensions. We're trapped, can't get out, can't get out."

"What happened to you?" Buffy asks worriedly.

"Touched a wall, went poof, magic drained, amulet saved me." Anya explains in a voice losing steam.

"What are they going to burn out?" I ask.

"Let's get her to my place." 

Buffy looks around, past me and my heart stops. 

"Tara?" she says loudly. 

I answer but she doesn't hear me again. I start to panic, and then Buffy closes her eyes.

"Tara, I know you're there now," Buffy says quietly. "Come with me. We'll figure something out."

"Oh bugger," Anya says lazily in her arms. "Sorry about that girlfriend."

Anya touches her amulet and mutters something and Buffy smiles as she looks at me.

"Lets go home." Buffy says. 

"What are they going to burn out?" I ask again.

"The Key," Anyanka mumbles.

Buffy freezes. Her face becomes a mask of tired hate.

"Go ahead of us," Buffy says to me. "Watch out for us."

I scout ahead for danger, relishing the fact that I'm useful to someone again. Buffy gets Anya home to the tiny apartment and onto the bed. Anya falls asleep instantly. Buffy seems to sag.

"Call work and tell them you're not coming in today," I tell her. "You need sleep and Tuesday is visiting day for Dawn."

"You really have been with us, haven't you?" Buffy says softly.

"You're m-my family," I stammer and look down. 

Buffy nods and calls. Then she sits there and looks at the little table full of pictures. 

"I wish we could have it back," she says in a tiny voice. Anya just sleeps.

"Get some sleep," I say softly, "I'll watch over you."

Buffy wipes her eyes and smiles at me. She lies down on the thin carpet, takes a spare sheet to cover her and her jacket for a pillow, and falls asleep almost instantly. The Slayer tosses in a bit and says "Momma" again. I feel confused for a second because Joyce is Mom or Mommy. Then I remember the grim picture.

It hits me in a rush, an insight and an answer together that I don't want to admit to but ring true in my mind. It's feels like something that needs to be understood in my very soul.

__

I should be there and _Momma_

A dimension where magic once was a small, crucial part of daily life, the way my mother said magic should be. A place where something now was draining away magic and hope with it.

Time and dimensions and energy all in flux as the walls of the dimensions begin to fall around Sunnydale as the Key bleeds. The Slayer makes a choice for life and hope and leaps, leaps to a death here, but a life somewhere else; a life that has to start again.

Buffy was in what she called heaven, safe and loved. Heaven was warm and soft.

Oh, God, no. What had we done? What had I done?

In a far off corner of my soul I can hear a mother's loss in a desperate animal wail.

I hear that wail all night as I watch over them, until Anya gets up in the morning. Only she's Anyanka again, a tousled, grumpy Anyanka. She flips her hand to her amulet and she's Anya, and dressed. 

"Nice trick," Buffy grouses as she levers herself up.

"Um, I'm going to check on Dawn," I say, feeling guilty about leaving now that I can be seen. "If that's alright."

"It's more than alright, Tara," Buffy says softly. "I need to work with Anya on this. Give us a little time alone, stay with Dawn. If this Grey shows up or anything strange happens get back to us fast. And Tara-"

I turn, her voice sounds strange.

"Thanks."

For the first time I go to Dawn in the night feeling hope. I tell her everything will be fine, actually meaning it this time. When I hear the awful morning bell I look for Miss Grey, but she isn't here today. Or maybe she's not a morning bitch. I wonder briefly about how catty Miss Grey makes me feel. 

Another flash of insight, like something I again need to know deep in my heart comes to me. I see a very young Miss Kitty and her littermates mewing as a dog looms over them. Then a blur of fur and claws and teeth rips into the startled dog as a lean form rakes his face. The dog runs off, and a rough tongue and some nuzzling calms tiny fears.

Another insight and maybe some wisdom, I hope. Buffy and Dawn need me, and now I can help. I've got a little hope again for my family, and it's bringing out my claws. 

Meow, Miss Grey.


	2. Chapters 4 to 7

**Chapter Four**

Interlude, With Demon

Anyanka looked around the tiny apartment as the shower stopped in the background. Buffy stepped out of the bathroom a moment later, finding the demon looking at the pictures on the small table. Anyanka tried to hide the hand brushing her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at the photos.

"Stupid mortal attempt to stop time," Anyanka snapped with brittle superiority. "And the table, Goodwill perhaps?"

"Dumpster rescue actually," Buffy replied dryly. 

"It's not how you thought it was going to be, is it Slayer?" Anyanka snapped suddenly. "Plucky girlfriend gets her head together and goes back to being super geek. Maybe she and safe-guy-to have-around get together after she mourns her little girlfriend. Then they're there for Slayer and Dawn the Supersister. Maybe I was supposed to go off with Giles and get all wise so I could be a tweedy magic Anya-Giles Watcher."

"I didn't hide in a tree for months while the world went to hell-" Buffy snapped, then drew a ragged breath and looked up at the dingy ceiling. 

"I wasn't hiding-" Anyanka said shrilly, then stopped, head down.

"Sorry," Buffy said after a moment. "I know what it's like to lose the guy you love after-"

The demon sighed and shook her head. "Sorry, just Anya being hurt and stupid again."

Buffy crossed her arms and took a breath.

"If you thought Dawn and I caused Xander's death, why didn't you, you know-"

"Dip you both in pureed carrots and feed you to giant bunnies?" Anyanka said forcefully. "I was ready to, but when I saw you get the news from his uncle Rory, saw you just curl up and want to die, I felt, I-something came up."

"Yeah," Buffy said without conviction.

"You don't understand," Anyanka almost yowled. "In hundreds of years I knew what I was doing. Justice. Vengeance. Then I screw up and get stuck here. There's a guy and then something from a thousand years ago says He's nice and different'. Only it goes kablooey in my face."

"So you go back to vengeance," Buffy said with a bite.

"Wanted to, tried to, but one friend dies and Willow goes dark and more vengeful than I could. The world is in danger and for some reason I still care." Anya went on quietly sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't want it to be the only thing I was good at."

"You were becoming good at magic," Buffy protested encouragingly.

"I don't know how," Anya admitted tiredly. "But Giles is there and there's something new to do. Then Willow fools us all and kills herself. And I'm sorry she's dead, I mean I even tried getting her back for him. Giles is angry cause I tried and blew it and all my new power. Giles and I fight and I leave. Xander's so busy helping you, then he's dead and it all hurts so much."

Buffy took Anyanka's hand and held it. The demon closed her hand around Buffy's and seemed to take comfort in the small warm hand. Slowly, Anyanka raised her head. 

"D'Hoffryn and Halfrek were so touched by my pain," Anyanka snarled. "They went on about the moral superiority of demons. They didn't mention the superior craftiness. And I was the one who insisted on inviting them to the wedding." 

"The guy-thing at the wedding?" Buffy said angrily. "That was them? What gave them the right-"

"D'Hoffryn did it," the demon said coldly. "I was hurting so badly I never thought about how Stewart Burns managed to get to Xander so perfectly. Then, after it's all too late and he's dead, some meek little ghost tells me the truth about the car wreck and I wonder. I look back, with a nicely cast spell, and I find out."

"Why?" Buffy asked sadly.

"Because Halfrek was getting political and going to make a bid for power," Anyanka explained tightly. "I was a distraction for Halfrek so she could make a move to prove to the others she should be top Vengeance demon. When Xander-" the blonde woman took a breath and started again. "Halfrek was the one that suggested I needed some time to myself after I heard about the-"

Buffy just held Anyanka's hand and let the crying slow.

"It was Halfrek who gave me my amulet back and came up with the stupid tree nymph meditation spell," Anyanka snarled. "And stupid me, I trusted her. Like those bimbos ever meditate. It was I'll come check on you' and take your time'. Then I'm stuck and I spend a month listening to sap running as I think of everything I'm going to do to Halfrek. Then I start listening to myself and thinking and thinking for months." 

"Halfrek didn't come for you?" Buffy asked. "I wish I would have known-"

Anyanka quickly looked down at her amulet as Buffy's eyes grew wide when she realized what she had said. After a moment, the demon stood up and walked around the tiny room. Finally she sat down scowling. 

"Now I can't get anything on this," Anyanka said dejectedly. "The magic pirates must be cutting us off from wherever D'Hoffryn or Halfrek now have the primary focus. Hey-this isn't my amulet! Look at this!"

"The really tiny squiggles?" Buffy asked in what she hoped was a helpful tone.

"They say basic power," Anyanka snapped tiredly. "Newbies get basic power'. Screwed again."

Buffy winced at those words; Anyanka looked uncomfortable as she realized what she had said.

"It worked," Buffy pointed out. "I mean the power may not be big mojo but it survived the whole slamming into the magic wall thing."

"You're alive," Buffy went on, "and that's the most important thing."

"Yeah," Anyanka wearily explained. "I mean newbies get these so they won't break them or start a disruptive flux going, things like that."

"D'Hoffryn and Halfrek, they didn't kill him, did they?" Buffy asked softly after a breath.

"No, the magic pirates did," Anyanka said just as softly, "I'm sure of it."

"Anya, you said you tried to get," Buffy faltered for a moment, "to get Willow back. What happened?"

"Something was very angry about her bringing you back, I think," Anyanka said with a shiver. "Something powerful enough to slap me back like I was a fly and take my power. Something kind of connected to the Hellmouth."

"Oh God, no!" Buffy said in horror.

The small blonde got up and started to pace in the tiny room. Suddenly, she turned to the despondent demon.

"An, you can go back in time-" Buffy started with a forced brightness.

"Not that far," Anyanka said sadly. "I can go sideways but even that's limited by these new walls. Wait a second, what about Giles? He helped save the world, the Watchers must owe him."

"The Council said well done publicly, then Travers sends me a private little message," Buffy said with barely controlled rage. "Gist of it was dear not the Slayer anymore, touch or call anything of ours, especially Mr. Giles or Mr. Windham-Pryce, and someone'll end up in a magic dungeon and we'll send you a couple of bits of them to prove it'. It was pretty, er, impressive, the way it burst into flame after I read it."

There was a moment of silent pacing then Buffy turned to Anyanka.

"Alright, we know what we can't do," Buffy said with some confidence and anger showing in her voice. "Can you find out anything about this Grey woman? Without one of her wards going off and turning you into a Vengeance Demon statue or something."

"I think so," Anyanka said with a nasty grin forming "especially since she can't stop my spy." 

"Let's get to work."

**Chapter Five**

Buffy arrives at the Juvenile Center just a little early. I feel Buffy; the two of them close together feels almost good. I follow the feeling and pop in just in front of her. She starts very slightly and smiles. Buffy whispers something and I bend forward, careful not to graze her. 

"Go home to Anya," Buffy says quietly, her lips barely moving.

I start to follow her command but I stop. I've wanted to tell her something for a while, and something is telling me not to lose this chance. 

"Buffy," I start, "Dawn didn't deserve this. She's growing up and trying so hard to stay good in here. It's h-hard Buffy but she's doing it."

"I know, and thanks," she says with a sad but proud smile.

I go with a slight unease. I've always been with the two of them on Visiting Day before, and while I tell myself I can come back, it still feels wrong. Then I'm at Buffy's and Anyanka is waiting. Her plan is simple. I move through time while she follows me, I don't know how. I just need to pick the perfect spot to bring her in without hitting a ward. I nod and go there. Once I've been somewhere I can get back, in the linear or near linear time.

It takes me a few seconds to pick the perfect spot, and then it's out and back again. Anya follows me in and smiles in a nasty way. I want to do the same, but part of me still says I have to be a good girl. But a tiny, growing part says I should tear Miss Grey apart since she's a threat to my family. That tiny part scares me. 

Anyanka reaches into a space of nothing and pulls out the laptop computer I saw Miss Grey use, but I don't know what kind.

"Do you remember much about computers, Tara," Anyanka asks, tearing me out of my woolgathering. 

"Not much," I apologize, "I'm kinda out of practice."

"Right, right," Anyanka says as she starts to move her hands about the space around the chair in the circle. "What did you see? Any hint about the operating system?" 

"Um, there was a spreadsheet and a, ah, presentation looking graph with some pictures of Willow and Dawn," I slow to a stop as I wish I had listened more to Willow and Anya.

"Hmm, no connection or ward. Let's see what we have here," Anyanka opens it up carefully and turns it on. She goes to hand it to me to hold but stops herself just in time with a muttered "Sorry," and puts it on the chair as I shrug helplessly. In a moment, a logo I don't recognize comes into view and a login box appears. Anyanka scowls and types something on the keyboard. The thing Willow called a desktop appears.

"Password is not a password," Anyanka mutters disapprovingly. 

She touches the touchpad and the arrow dances around the screen. Finally she types a few things in and smiles like a pirate. Then she gets out one of those electronic data pads and chants something about transfer of knowledge and lore. I watch over her shoulder as the little pad and laptop start flashing pictures and numbers at a dizzying speed. Anya is absorbed in the download.

"Um, Anya, shouldn't lore be transferred into, you know, a book?" I ask after a second. 

"Too much volume for text these days," she says in a lecturing tone. "The old lore books would burst into flame with this much data download. You've got to stop living in the past."

"I've got the stop living part down," I say as sweetly as I can.

Anyanka turns to me quickly, and then stops when she sees I'm smiling.

"You're teasing me," Anyanka snaps. 

"Sorry," I say with a small smile. 

"You are not sorry, ghost," Anyanka says with a pout. Then she looks at the machines for a moment. "I missed you," she half whispers.

I don't know what to say. I just wish I could hug her. She barely glances up at me and gives me a forced frown.

"You hug me and pop and I'll have to bring you back," Anyanka snaps raggedly. "I'll be cross."

Just then the pad beeps. Anyanka first takes the data pad and puts it in her pocket, then her fingers dance on the keyboard and touchpad

"That should cover our tracks," she says as she puts the laptop into the nothing it came out of. "What?" she asks mostly to herself as she removes a box made of small bones. She recognizes it. So do I, but I still fear the thing. "No wards," she says incredulously. She grabs it and holds it almost reverently.

I'm about to protest when she opens the box and we see a golden bone about the size of a small ruler. It looks real. All of a sudden the terrifying clouds are in every frame in the room. Fear washes over me like a wave. Anyanka very carefully closes the box and puts it back in the void. The clouds disappear. She turns to me, her face pale and her eyes huge and terrified.

"Guide us out of here," she says with false calm barely this side of hysteria. "Get us out getusoutgetusout get-us-out!"

I start to head for Buffy's apartment, but something stops me. I know suddenly I shouldn't lead anything back to my family. In a moment of indecision I feel everything reel. Instead I head to the Espresso Pump. It was one of our first places, Willow's and mine. I feel the same knot I get when Buffy passes it at night. Strong emotions. I can find it. Anyanka staggers a bit as we pop into the coffee shop. She quickly fakes a cough and touches her amulet, becoming Anya again.

"Tara," she whispers, "what are we doing here?"

"Not leading a trail back to Buffy," I say quickly. 

"Good plan," Anya said in an angry whisper. "Let's have the forces of darkness show up in a coffee shop with lots of civilians. What are we supposed to do, beat them with biscotti and drown them in mochas?" 

Anya shuts up for a second and glares at me. I shut my eyes, then open them because Willow is there, holding a mocha, and bringing me one of those obscenely rich banana with chocolate chip muffins I love. Suddenly, I hate the thought of coffee.

"Are we being followed?" I croak out. 

"No," Anya states after a moment with her eyes closed. Across from us a man is looking at us in that don't-make-eye-contact' way people use around scary people. With everything else going on it gives me pause for a second and then I smile ruefully.

"Don't answer me," I tell Anya quickly. "I don't think anyone else can see me so you're talking to yourself."

My smile fades instantly as I think maybe everyone else is right and I don't exist. All my hope drains out of my soul as I wonder what good I ever thought an insubstantial witch could do for anyone.

"Let's walk," I say quickly and step out onto the sidewalk. Anya follows me as I look down an alley then head down it. We stop in the shadows. 

"Anybody following us?" I ask.

She shakes her head no after a moment. 

"That box," Anya says carefully as she looks around the alley, "I've seen it before."

"When you were with Giles," I say with a nod. "You were training that day. He never trained you about binding to the earth. It snapped open and closed when you tried to bring back-" 

"It did?" Anya asks in a shocked tone. "The power kind of felt like what I remember imy/i power feeling like, only more powerful."

She turns to me with a relieved smile, "I didn't screw up!" She crows. "That bitch stole- Tara?"

I'm trying to concentrate, but I can't help but see Willow. Willow as the darkness swallowed her, Willow threatening our family, broken afterwards in Xander's arms and I try to refuse to see her dead, then being taken away from me. 

"The day Willow-" Anya looks at me with concern then 

"You put a protective spell on me?" She asks, surprised. "You were there."

"Of course," I say, hurt showing in my voice at her question.

"I should have known you'd stick near me," Anya says with a rueful tone. "Anyone who would have worn that bridesmaid dress for me-" She paused, shaking her head.

"It was better than tangerine taffeta," I answer, trying to sound brave.

"Tangerine taffeta?" Anya gapes. "You're kidding! Who?"

"It was in one of your bridal magazines," I answer shakily. "The season's boldest color' the article said."

"Insanity is often confused with boldness," Anya smirks, "and tangerine taffeta is insane. What's binding to the earth?"

"Oh," I shrug embarrassedly, "it's just something weak magic users have to do to keep them from being h-hurt by the spells they use. My mother made me learn it until I do, um, did it automatically."

"Never heard of it," She answers. "I mean never as in centuries. How does it work?"

"You take a small bit of your power," I explain, "push it into the earth or something touching the earth, and bind that point to you as you work magic. You and Willow were so strong you probably didn't need it."

"Well I'm not strong now," Anya says flatly. "Let's see if this works."

Across the way, a garbage can catches her attention. She touches her amulet and a heartbeat later the container lifts smoothly into the air. It settles down just as easily, and that impresses me because I know down's the hard part. 

"Wow," Anya softly exclaims. "That was so much easier. Your mother taught you this binding to the earth?"

I just point towards a man standing in the entrance to the alley who's looking our way with a look of concern. Anya stifles a grin and tries to look like she has serious business in an alley. The man shakes his head and scuttles off. 

"Let's get back to Buffy's before I get carted off to a rubber room," Anya says quickly. 

We head to Buffy's apartment as the afternoon wears on. Anya uses a key on the cheap lock and us in. The room has candles on the table and circle of salt on the tiny kitchen floor. 

"I learned a few things from Giles," She answers cryptically,

Anya takes out the PDA and starts to work on the data as she glances occasionally at the battered clock radio (Buffy hates getting up) by the bed. The shrill ring of the phone makes me jump. 

"That's Buffy," Anya says smugly. "Follow me."

I can feel her go away and start after her, confused and concerned.

**Chapter Six**

We're back at the table again only this time there's a thin form wearing the sturdy neon orange jumpsuit of the high-risk offenders. My maybe heart skips a beat as I hear my name called out with joy. Dawn rushes past Buffy and holds out her arms to hug me. I forget in my happiness and do the same. 

"Tara?" Dawn calls out with fright and despair warring in her voice a heartbeat later. "Oh God, it's just another dream. I'm going crazy in here." 

Then Buffy is making soothing noises as she takes Dawn in her arms and shelters her. After a moment Dawn calms down.

"This is real, isn't it?" the teen finally asks hopefully.

I start to explain but stop when I see Buffy looking for me. Tara the witchy soap bubble. I forgot and I've frightened Dawn. 

"Yes," Buffy explains gently but firmly. "Tara is here but we can't touch her or she pops out of where we can see her."

"Who thought up that stupid rule?" Dawn asks truculently. She glares at Anya.

"Don't look at me that way," Anya warns as she touches her amulet and seems to strain. "I'm holding you two here and keeping Tara in focus with an amulet that's no fun to wear at all."

"Dawn?" I whisper hopefully. 

"Tara!" Dawn squeaks with wide smile, then her smile falls and she forces it back, only her clenched fists showing how hard it is to hold herself back.

"Are you alright?" we both ask at the same moment.

"Are you an angel?" Dawn asks quickly.

"No, she's cursed," Anya explains helpfully.

Dawn glares at her and tenses her body. Buffy touches her arm and Dawn takes a deep breath then sits down. Dr Humphries would be proud.

"We don't know what she is, Dawn," her sister interjects.

"A geas!" Dawn says brightly, almost dancing in her seat. "All we have to do is find out what Tara needs to do and-"

"And she fades away." Anya points out. "That's not going to happen here. I think it's a curse. That's why you feel the need to follow us obsessively and, well, the trying to help is just you being you."

"You've been with us all this time?" Dawn asked incredulously. I just nod.

"We couldn't see or hear her, Dawn" Buffy explains gently. "And Tara can't touch anything here." 

Dawn's not taking this easily and is trying to come up with some answer she can accept. Buffy squares her slim shoulders and takes on the stance that always makes me feel better. My protector of old is back.

"Dawn, as much as I know Tara means to you, I didn't have Anya give herself a magical hernia for a reunion," Buffy says gently ribbing her sister. Dawn rolls her eyes. "You're in danger, and, well, you're grown up enough to hear the whole truth."

"A Juvenile Center vampire?" Dawn quips with false bravado.

"Someone wants to use the Key to drain all the magic out of the Hellmouth," Buffy says dryly.

"Oh," Dawn says suddenly attentive and nervous. "Who?"

"We don't know," I try to explain, "They're very powerful and ruthless-" 

"They make power focuses out of the bones of their enemies children," Anya interrupted. Dawn's eyes widened. 

"They're the ones who attacked Xander and maybe Spike," I explain as Buffy frowns at those words. "And they've been testing Buffy for a-awhile, with vampires and demons and stuff." 

"But you're alone-Xander and Spike! Buffy y-you've got to get out of here, get somewhere safe-" Dawn starts to babble, her fear for Buffy almost palpable.

Buffy wraps her arms around her sister and pulls her close. Anya looks at them with all too human sadness, then at me-

Something unknown is closing near the young one, and her frightened scent fills me. White-hot rage burns away the fatigue poisons in my blood as my sisters and I race across the cold ground-

"Um, guys?" Dawn's voice breaks the image, "you were all growling." Dawn looks puzzled. "But it wasn't scary, really".

"Wait a minute," Dawn looks up at Anya. "They killed Xander? He didn't-"

"You didn't hurt him," Anya says with sad certainty.

Dawn almost sags with relief, then looks up at me and I dread the next question she's going to ask. But she's been growing up. She looks at me with too much sadness and composes herself.

"I know that answer, Tara," she says quietly. "It's yes, at least partly."

"You weren't guilty of anything," I start.

"Bad judgment," Dawn snaps. "Stupid choice of friends-" She chokes the rest of the words back with a tear.

"It was my stupid letter that-" and then I'm fighting tears of my own.

"Tara," Buffy starts softly, "it wasn't your letter. It was the letter from your scholarship committee. They approved your request about your dorm fees going to me. She knew you were coming home for real."

It's too much and I lose it. She knew how much I wanted to be with her. I hear a chair move and Dawn is standing next to me. 

"Dawn, what are you doing?" Anya asks peevishly. 

"Leave her alone!" Dawn barks through her swallowed tears. "Tara, when you're ready, come back to us. We'll wait."

I look at her and realize that as frightened as it makes her Dawn has touched me and seen me disappear. She can't give any comfort but the privacy to grieve. There's a note of command in her voice. She turns and slowly moves back to her chair.

I look at Dawn, compassionate and trying to be brave in an oversized jumpsuit she doesn't deserve. Anya looks sad and drawn. She's working magic with an amulet that seems to be draining her for us, for me. Buffy looks at Dawn with a measuring look, seeing a woman, young and scared but a woman sitting where her little sister was and wondering how long she's been there, and what other things she's missed.

Not one of us born together, but they are my family, heart and soul. I'm apart from them, but I'm not alone anymore. And they need me.

"Willow, I love you, I love you but you're gone," I say to emptiness I've been carrying with me since I've seen her die. "They need me. I can't cry over what's been or might have been anymore. I've got to go on. I love you, all of you. Goodbye and Goddess keep you."

"Return," I say with shaky determination.

Dawn looks at me, worried.

"I'm finished with tears," I say with a bravado I know won't fool them.

Buffy looks at me with a welcoming smile.

"Let's finish this."

**Chapter Seven**

"Well that's just sloppy," Anya says as she looks at her computer. "Of course, what do you expect from someone who uses password for- hey, she didn't do that."

"What?" Buffy asks with a touch of exasperation. "Anya, we can't see."

Anya touches the screen and mutters something and then each of us has a cute flat screen monitor in front of us. Buffy scowls at her screen while Dawn and I can just keep up with Anya's electronic pilfered goods. They read like a glowing report. One with the writer doing everything perfectly after predecessors let some ignorant savages destroy the mayor. She had Adam made, had the Key distilled into human form, defeated Glory in a test of the Key's efficiency, and convinced us to bring back the Slayer to complete the mission requirements. 

"This footnote here," Dawn said pointing at her monitor, "it says she killed Clem. "Why? He was just kinda nice guy in a demony sort of way."

"He helped me really accidentally one night after William..." Buffy scowls at the memory. "He bought me a second or two."

"And got really beat up," I add at the memory.

"I thought he got smart and left town," Buffy says sadly.

My family is tearing the rest of Miss Grey's report to tiny verbal shreds when I see a picture of Willow and I. I frown but keep looking until I see a phrase:

"Unfortunately the Unclassed Witch/Empath could not be preserved. Her death was needed as the trigger for the HTA."

"That explains her power!" I gasp. "When I, um, died the emotions must have boosted her power. Damn it why didn't I-"

"That's not her," Buffy says levelly, "that's you, Tara."

"N-no," I say quickly. "I can't be an Empath."

"She's right, Tara," Anya nods. "Willow is Hellmouth Triggering Agent' or HTA. You'd be the oldest witch/empath I've heard about."

"How could she trigger the Hellmouth?" Dawn asks.

"Because she and every child born in this town with any magic were already touched by the Hellmouth and in tune with its power," Buffy reads coldly. "The ones with the most latent power and most socially inept' Grey's predecessors had tied directly to the Hellmouth when they came to Sunnydale High for the last seven years. Here's Willow, Amy and Jonathan, a couple of others. They're called secondary triggers' for back up in case Mayor Wilkins didn't ascend properly and destabilize the Hellmouth."

"How can a witch destabilize some thing as old and large as the Hellmouth?" I ask out loud.

"By being the most powerful mage in Sunnydale history," Anya says in shocked tone. "According to Miss Grey if the Hellmouth loop hadn't been draining her Willow could have broken any spell we used on her. She calls her almost human.'"

I only think of Willow, pain and loss blinding her as she touches darkness itself while I watch helplessly, for a second or maybe a year.

"What's this here?" Dawn asks, now looking over Anya's shoulder.

Suddenly a collection of graphs and arcane equations shows up on the monitors. They spring into motion and the waves on the graphs build and turn red. 

"These are my graphs," Anya says in a tone of angry wonder. "There's more data now but these are my graphs."

"What do your graphs say?" Buffy asks pointedly.

"The Hellmouth is building up to a peak in just over one hundred hours that will tear reality just enough to let a focus drain it and every dimension it touches of every bit of magic," Anyanka says in a shocked tone. "With all the things that have happened in Sunnydale the Hellmouth has been growing. It's huge. It touches over a hundred worlds." 

There's a new picture in the report. We stare at it for a second. Somehow the photo catches the malignant red and gold sheen on the darkness of an irregular pool of onyx. 

"It's," Buffy gropes for a heartbeat, "changed."

"She said it would drain thirty eight worlds," I say quietly after a moment.

"I don't think someone who makes magic thingies out of kids' bones can be trusted," Buffy says tightly. "Besides it says thirty eight Class Three or better' worlds. Gucci™ world isn't equal to K Mart™ dimension. Just the best for these Arcadians'."

Anya trembles for a moment: Buffy and Dawn look up quickly as she tries to recover. The sisters look to each other as I watch silently.

"How much time do we have until magic meltdown?" Buffy asks calmly.

"A bit over a hundred hours." Anya answers.

"Research is over for now, An," Buffy says softly. "You're too important to burn out."

"I'm fine," She says, stifling a yawn.

"This is a new fine, right?" Buffy asks sweetly.

"One where the mage gal falls over and the room collapses and Dawn gets to explain why we're here and not in Jack,'" Dawn adds pointedly.

"All right, we'll stop if you'll take Tara as scout tonight," Anya insists. "I'm not facing some super witch without a Slayer backup. You get carved up and we all get dead."

"I can keep watch over Dawn through the night, help Buffy and still keep watch over Anya," I explain. "I used to watch five of you." 

"But you can't go past your death?" Anya asks in a puzzled tone. "That's not how it should work."

"As long as it works," Buffy says quickly. "Let's get going. Tara, lead the way."

I take them first to Buffy's apartment. Anya sits down on the bed and gathers her wits. Dawn looks around the tiny space. She opens the window and takes a deep breath of the cool night air as greedily as she once drank huge milkshakes. She reluctantly closes the window when Anya huddles in Buffy's one blanket.

"You have your own bathroom, right?" Dawn asks almost quivering. "With your own shower and everything?"

"That door there," Buffy says with a tired smile, "but it's small."

"How long do we have before you have to get her back?" Buffy asks Anya wistfully.

"A quick shower can be made to fit in.," she says softly.

Dawn makes a happy noise and darts into the washroom. Water begins to run.

"Make it fast, the water heater's tiny," Buffy calls through the door. Then the Slayer turns to me.

"You can go anywhere with her," Buffy starts.

"Buffy, I would never-" I start to explain with a rush.

"I know Tara," Buffy says and I know she trusts me with herself and Dawn. The moment is almost too bright when Anya pipes up.

"I can see the blurb on the video," the reluctant demon drawls with a gutter-sounding giggle. "Lesbian ghost witch in the girls reformatory. See the young things go running past her as she covers her eyes and blushes."

"Anya!" I squeak (I admit it). "I don't blush."

"Good imitation though," Buffy quips as I gasp for words.

I'm not prudish; I'm just trying to be good. I think of all the times I've looked away or tried not to listen to the constant usage of the F-word. The two of them laugh for a moment and I feel myself start to laugh with them at the contortions I've gone through to give Dawn (and the other girls) privacy from someone she never knew existed. I feel the laughter in the room for a moment as we just enjoy each other's company.

Dawn steps out after a "short shower" drains Buffy's water heater. Buffy and Dawn fuss over Dawn's hair while Anya and I critique hairstyles. For a little while, I almost feel alive. Then Anya stands up and touches her amulet reluctantly. Time to go. Buffy runs her hand through Dawn's long hair sadly. Dawn suddenly hugs Buffy and then Anya. She looks into Anya's eyes and says "Thanks, for everything."

Anya hugs her back and gruffly tells me to lead the way. Dawn squares her shoulders like Buffy and steps behind me back in an instant into the girls' rest room. The clock starts to move. Dawn seems to deflate and gives me a sad little smile. On top of everything else Tuesday is macaroni night and it's not one of her favorites.

"We better get going," she says as she hears the dinner bell ring and the girls start to line up. 

It takes just a little while for Dawn to finish. I only tell her to slow down once.

She smiles a little. One of the girls at the table is about to ask a question about that smile with a snort when Dawn looks at her with a cold stare. Her reputation holds the questioner in check. After dinner it's homework in the very supervised study area. Instead of television she works out in her cubicle. She doesn't vary her routine. Only when the cubicle door is secured for the night does she talk to me in a whisper.

"What are you, Tara?" Dawn asks in a whisper. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know, Dawn." I answer wearily. "I made some promises I didn't keep. I didn't do some things that I should have, and did what I knew was wrong."

"Warren shot you," Dawn says carefully. "It's not your fault you weren't there for me. I know that. That's what you really care about."

"Yes," I say trying not to cry.

"I made a little place for you in my heart," Dawn admits. "I never really thought you'd be looking out for me."

"All I could do is watch and feel h-helpless," I admit in my own whisper.

"Did you watch us all?" Dawn wonders. "Even Willow?" 

"Yes, even her," I answer steadier than I hoped. 

"She was hurting when she did those things," Dawn says calmly. I can feel her remembered fear again. "It wasn't her fault. They tied her magic to the Hellmouth. No one could have helped her."

"I should've..." I drop the thought. Should have catches no fish, my mother said. Right now Dawn doesn't need a recitation of my shortcomings. She'd argue them away anyway.

"I know that now," I say quietly. I realize Dawn now knows it too. I'm not the only one with should'ves.

She's quiet for a while, stretching her body and her mind, trying to make things fit.

"How did you find the time?" Dawn asks.

"Time found me, Dawn," I say as she moves to stretch a different muscle group.

"And you think it's running out," Dawn whispers flatly after a pause.

"Yes," I can't lie to her.

For a moment the cubicle is quiet except for the young woman stretching. A sudden yawn catches her off guard.

"Tara, if Buffy has to make a decision this time about the Key..." Dawn's voice trails off.

"I'll be there for her as much as I can," I promise.

"Don't look so sad, Tara" Dawn whispers. "Buffy will come through."

This time the yawn was huge and she blinked slightly. 

"Too much excitement today," I observe.

She shrugs, smiles and crawls into bed. I close my eyes until she's under the covers. For a second she looked at me, puzzled.

"Don't you sleep?" She whispered lazily. I just shake my head.

"I know there won't be rounds or funny shapes in the morning," Dawn whispers sadly. "Could you sing for me?"

She's already half asleep when I start an old song my mother sang for me. The lights go out. I don't breath, I think, but the music requires it. Then I just stop worrying and start.

Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee

All through the night

Guardian angels God will send thee

All through the night

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping

Hill and dale in slumber steeping

I my loving vigil keeping

All through the night.

While the moon her watch is keeping

All through the night

While the weary world is sleeping

All through the night

O'er thy spirit gently stealing

Visions of delight revealing

Breathes a pure and holy feeling

All through the night.

Dawn is asleep and peacefully so. She looks younger this way. She stirs and the last verses come to mind. I close my eyes and see the most beautiful green eyes in the world. I sing to them and remember her warmth as Willow slept beside me that last night.

Love; to thee my thoughts are turning

All through the night

All for thee my heart is yearning,

All through the night.

Though sad fate our lives may sever

Parting will not last forever,

There's a hope that leaves me never,

All through the night. 

Dawn sleeps through the night for the first time since I died.


	3. Chapters 8 to 11

**

Chapter Eight

**

I return to Buffy at the apartment as she puts on her jacket. Anya is looking through the cabinets in the tiny kitchenette for something to eat.

"The back burner is the only one that works on the stove," Buffy is explaining to Anya.

"What about the microwave?" Anya asks as she looks at it doubtfully. "It doesn't leak harmful radiation that can damage magical things, does it?"

"Not that I've noticed," Buffy said rising an eyebrow. "Is that a big problem? Giles had one at the Magic Box. I think he only used it for making tea."

"No, I used it," Anya snorts. "Giles always said it made his tea taste wrong."

"Could he help us?" I blurt out. "I mean with the Hellmouth and, you know, the research."

"The Watchers pretty much said you touch it, we'll break it," Buffy said resignedly.

"And I didn't part on the best terms with him," Anya admitted quietly. Then she looked up at me with bright eyes. "You could go to him and no one would know."

"I didn't get a protective spell made for him before he left," I admit, ashamed that I let a man who was more father to me than my own go without protection. "And besides, since the box attacked Anya I can't get back there."

"Can you track him through me?" Buffy asks. 

"I'll try," I promise.

Shutting my eyes and thinking of Giles makes a tiny spark, and it grows with thinking about Giles and Buffy. Anya and Giles and Buffy make it almost strong enough to track back to, but not quite. I open my eyes and see Anya holding Buffy's hand, both of them with their eyes closed.

"It's almost there but I can't quite find him, I'm sorry," I tell them as I hang my head.

"We'll add Dawn tomorrow night," Buffy decides. "Maybe it will help. That was more witch fu than you thought you could do."

I think I blushed as I nodded and smiled at her. Then I noticed the clock radio and the time.

"You're going to be late to the flower stand if you don't hurry," I say as Buffy looks at the clock.

"Flowers," Buffy says quietly, and then she shakes her head. "You go see what Miss Grey has selected for tonight's main feature."

Buffy pulls on her jacket and hat, then turns to me with a quizzical expression.

"When did I start the flower thing?" Buffy asks quietly.

"Just after Willow's funeral," I manage to get out before I flee.

I find Miss Grey in comfortable lounging wear. She's pacing, trying to make her laptop work. Then she presses her hand on it and it glows. She snarls something about resetting. She seems to blame the computer and not hackers, and I sag with relief until she pulls out her golden grisly focus and sniffs it. She seems unsure but taps it against a box. The box opens and one of the scaled things that killed Spike springs into existence. I can hear a cacophony of screeching noise as the lid is returned.

It waits for her to speak, and then it disappears. On the chess board one pawn and the black queen move. I go to Buffy, but as I get close I can see the creature arriving behind her. I call out a warning. She leaps the beast and cuts it in its charge past her. She is ruthless but it's not a fair fight. It recovers swiftly and is swinging thin razor sharp claws at her neck.

It's driving her back when I see an open grave. I call out the location and Buffy steps back and retreats until she's on the edge, then she kicks dirt up in the thing's face and jumps over the hole. The thing falls into the empty grave and Buffy brings the axe down on its head. It doesn't recover from a split skull, especially when she hits it again just to make sure. It crumbles into dust. Buffy staggers off, the picture of exhaustion; I compliment her but she doesn't answer. I start to worry when I hear the faintest noise behind me. I duck out of her way by reflex as Buffy blurs the axe through the neck of the vampire I had forgotten. After he dusts she straightens up, favoring her right shoulder but otherwise okay.

"Time for ice cream, chocolate I think," Buffy says confidently.

"Oh God, I miss chocolate," I say before I even think.

"I should just go home," Buffy says with mock seriousness. "Too much ice cream makes a slow Slayer."

"You haven't had any for three months at least," I point out. "Anya hasn't had any for months either."

"My spirit guide is going to make me fat," Buffy scowls as she turns to walk to the store.

"Your spirit guide is going to get you locked up if you keep talking to someone who isn't here," I warn her gently.

"Three months, huh?" Buffy muses.

"Yeah, the giant snake thing with wings," I say shivering at the memory.

"That had to be a designer thing," Buffy says critically. "I mean, snake with wings and those colors, tell me ithose/i were natural. The acid venom was kind of neat in a dissolvy way."

"Eew!" I exclaim. Then I think of that night "It was really hot, and you had an ice cream bar and big pop," I say wistfully, then shiver at a memory "It nearly got you on the arm that last pass."

"No it didn't," She says defensively.

"Yes it did," I insist. "Remember that stain you thought was from the fry cooker?"

"That was acid?" Buffy asks. I nod. She glares off into the sky. "Someone could have let you tell me before I spent hours trying to get the stain out. It's not like I get a chance at that many jackets these days."

"Sorry," I say quickly.

"I'm just glad I have someone to talk to again," Buffy says quietly.

"Sorry if I ramble," I say hastily. "I got kind of, you know, filling up the emptiness with noise."

"There's a lot of that," Buffy said after a heartbeat.

The store is bright and light. No one takes any notice of her as she buys a box of chocolate ice cream bars. She eats one on the way home, enjoying it more than most things she has in the last few months. There's an actual spring in her step as she bounds up the stairs.

As her key goes in the lock I shift time and go to Anya. The roiling black clouds seem to be closer, more menacing I notice as I shift. Anya's just closing the door as I arrive. She takes a moment and yawns, then tries to understand the Ramen instructions. She's yawning, rubbing her forehead.

I walk her through the instructions and she heats it in the microwave. I wish I could feel the warmth in that bowl after those clouds.

"What clouds?" Anya asks.

I realize that I must have spoken out loud again. I forget that people, at least three people, can hear me now.

"You know," I start, uneasy talking about them, "The big clouds in the future when you travel in time."

"I don't see any clouds," Anya says with narrowing eyes.

"You don't?" I answer; surprised that she should miss them. "They're huge, full of something...angry and sad all at once."

Anya eats her soup and thinks. I just sit there for a while. 

"Empathy," the demon says. "That's why you can see them."

"If I'm an empath why didn't I, I-" I can't finish the words as my failures leap back to me.

"Come back to Willow the day Spike and I ripped up everybody?" Anya makes it a bitter question. "You came home when Willow and Dawn were upset, Buffy and Xander were torn and the rest of your family' was, was..."

I want to reach out to her, I start to and she almost touches me, but stops. Her face shows how much she wants to feel less alone. I feel her pain and self-loathing.

"We weren't a very good family for you," Anya says bitterly.

"Better than what I had," I say quietly. "Much better."

We're both quiet for a second. Then she looks at me with her face set carefully.

"Did he suffer?" Anya asks neutrally.

"It was quick," I say as carefully as I can.

"He suffered," Anya says surely. "Tell me he didn't burn, or lay there slowly being crushed or-"

Her tear-streaked face is a mask now. She's trying to be strong but the grief has cast her features into a rigid expression of sorrow.

"He was shocked and scared for a moment," I start carefully, hating the memory. "When we swerved he never saw the truck. It hit us at an angle on his side. The damage w-was really bad and the car got tossed into the grass. He didn't wake up, just moaned once, no, twice. There was blood everywhere. Then h-h-he died."

"Thank you," Anya says with her last reserve of calm. "Excuse me."

She goes into the tiny bathroom and starts to come apart. I hear the key in the door. Buffy looks at me startled, then she looks behind her. Her head comes up when she hears the crying. She shuts and locks the door.

"She asked about Xander," I explain helplessly. "I can't-" I just gesture with my useless hands. Buffy nods sadly and heads for the bathroom. She stops just before she goes in and looks back at me.

"Did you see William too?" the Slayer asks as she opens the bathroom door.

"Grey did it," I say flatly. "She sent two of those things after him. I saw her release one tonight."

Buffy closes the bathroom door. They think it helps but it doesn't. I have proof that I have the curse of Empathy as they hold each other and mourn what might have been. It echoes in my soul.

**

Chapter Nine

**

Anya is slightly more composed now. Buffy is tight, pacing and angry. I just feel nervous. Buffy finally stops and looks composed.

"You put the whammy on her, and I cut off her head with an axe," the Slayer says with brittle composure. "Problem solved."

"She's pretty much unwhammyable, Buffy," Anya says flatly. "She's a senior adept mage. Imagine Willow's power and a lot more experience."

I wince at that thought. Anya doesn't notice.

"You're tired and angry, Buffy," I say as firmly as I can. "Unless you get sleep you're not going to be axing anybody."

"I can't sleep knowing she's out there," Buffy snaps.

"Yes, you can," I say slightly softer. "Let me help. Lay down and listen, both of you."

They are reluctant to comply but both of them do it. I softly guide them both through an old relaxing exercise. I hear soft snoring in a moment from Anya. Buffy is looking at me with a concerned look and motions me to the bathroom. There she finally speaks about what's troubling her.

"Tara," Buffy starts uncomfortably, "about Will and, uh,"

"Xander. I know," I say wearily. "I'm dead, Buffy. He loved her, and he gave me hope for a little while."

"The good girl answer," Buffy says with a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I hear the worry for me and my feelings in her tone. I never told Buffy I valued her protection, but her decency and compassion are the things most beautiful about her.

"The truth is I was lucky to get her, Buffy," I admit in the darkness. "Willow fell in love with a person, not their gender or any other label. Xander loved her; I know that. I couldn't be near them when they were together that way, but they needed something so much it hurt not to have them together. I loved him like a brother, well, not mine, but he saved the world and he loved her. I wish it was me, but I'm glad it was him." 

"I just wanted to hear it from someone else," Buffy says gently, then yawns.

"Back to bed, or floor rather," I order with mock sternness. "Your soap bubble spirit guide commands you."

Buffy grumbles just a bit as she goes back to her makeshift bed but falls asleep quickly. I'm alone in the dark. I listen hard for the sound I dread. It seems to be loudest near Buffy. That makes sense, I think, since she was supposed to be the child born to the mourning woman. 

It seems louder tonight. I feel a touch of the pain in that cry in my heart. It keeps me focused. I've cried out like that about the ones I watched, and I never want to do it again.

Morning comes in about a decade. It's like it was yesterday, only Anyanka doesn't have to change to Anya since she didn't change last night. I wonder about that and she reacts. I've got to watch this talking out loud.

"I've got it on power saving," Anya says. "If I don't manifest it saves a bit of power."

"Could it be giving me dreams about really creepy clouds?" Buffy asks groggily. "Stephen King clown type clouds."

"Black and churning?" I ask quickly. "They feel angry and sad."

"Yeah," Buffy says with a surprised and concerned look on her face.

"They're on the lines of the future," I try to explain. "They're close when I go between you three."

"It's emotions and not magic," Anya explains baldly. "She can see it, I can't."

"Future," Buffy says quietly. Then she looks at Anya. "Hellmouth meltdown in less than a hundred hours, right?"

"About four days," Anya says. "Early Sunday morning." 

"Tara, she said she had how many nights left doing Slayer tests?" Buffy asks quickly.

"Four," I say grimly. "That was, um, Monday. Before the thing with a stinger."

"Thursday, so tomorrow is Grey's day to play the Queen of Hearts." Buffy says with a toss of her head and a cruel smile.

"Tara, go and see what our Miss Grey is doing right now," Buffy orders.

I go to her lair. I find a clump of writhing bodies with Miss Grey getting all the attention. Her tastes are exotic, but a tiny part of my mind insists her taste in girls is good. The males are, um, very male. Glasses and other things say the party has been going on a long time. The longer I stay the more my empathy picks up. There's fear here as well as lust. Terror and shame are adding to the bitch's pleasure. I look at one girl, feeling rage pour over me. I realize she looks a bit like Dawn, if Dawn were terrified, ashamed and forced into an animal heat. I get out.

"She's distracted," I say tightly. 

"Distracted?" Anya says, then she smiles and is about to ask more when she takes a close look at me.

"Just as long as her attention is diverted," Buffy says, looking at my face.

"It is," I snap. 

Both of them look at me and just nod.

"Right," Buffy says carefully. "Tara, when will Dawn be alone next. She gets up at seven, right?"

"She'll be alone for another ten minutes," I point out. "You accidentally set your clock ahead a bit last week, you know, after it, uh, ifell/i."

"Damn," Buffy says, glaring at the clock. "Tara, get to Dawn now and tell her to be ready to move in five minutes."

"What about work?" Anya asks with the unspoken undertone of what about earning money.

"I'm not going to play in her maze anymore," Buffy says firmly. "I think the mice need to chew their way out."

I go with hope warring against fear. Then I remember my family. Hope wins.

Dawn blinks the morning out of her eyes when I arrive and wake her. She smiles when she sees me. 

"If this is a dream I don't wanna wake up," Dawn says with a yawn.

"Waking up in Jack' and talking to soap bubble ghosts?" I quip trying to hide my anger. "Next thing you'll be saying you like the food."

Dawn makes a face as she gets up. 

"Dawn, this is important," I say carefully.

"Another magic breakout?" Dawn whispers, almost shining with hope and anticipation.

"Something like that," I answer. "Buffy's moving now while Grey is distracted. We have to move." 

Dawn throws on her jumpsuit in a flash as I stare at the ceiling. She giggles, and then is serious. "How is she distracted?"

Anya shows up at that second and we go to the table again. Dawn seems to relax at once and takes her seat between Buffy and me.

"How did you distract the wicked bitch?" Dawn asks. 

"Language," Buffy warns. 

"She's distracting herself with pretty boys." Anya lies quickly.

"Oh!" Dawn smiles. Then she looks at me.

"In a bad way?" Dawn asks.

"She's distracted," Buffy says flatly. "So we do this now. Dawn, hold my hand and think of Giles."

"A spell?" Dawn asks with puppy enthusiasm. "Cool!"

Anya takes hold of Buffy's free hand and I try to track Giles through them. I feel a faint tug. Dawn has added just enough. 

"I'll be right back," I promise. 

I'm sure I'm lost. There's a dark pit with the afternoon light pale against rain. Everything is burned and tossed about. I walk out to the front and see a beautiful old house. I realize it's a glamour covering the destruction. I try to look for Giles in a panic. I find a charred slab with a pair of glasses caught under the edge. In a cracked frame is a picture of all the Scoobies. My father, our father, is dead.

In a rage I sweep into the past of this place. I see the fire, Anya stealing files and discs in a room full of torn furniture. Then I hear her voice on the phone system. She's angry. Giles is pinned against the desk as the fire starts, trying to reach the phone. He's dying when the slab collapses onto him. I follow Anya, who turns into Miss Grey at the head of the burning stairs. She walks out the door of the illusion.

Miss Grey tells the older Watcher, Travers, how glad she is that the research is so secure. Grey "suggests" Travers into putting extreme security around the pretty house and the team researching the Hellmouth. Grey doesn't need much magic to tell Travers to guard the house and team well. He wants the power Giles has hinted at. They set up wards around Miss Grey's pretty shell and Travers begins drafting a letter to Buffy.

I stagger back to the table. I just stare dully at them. Dawn's eyes each let a single tear slide down her face. Buffy is saying no over and over very softly. 

"Take me there," Anya orders with a catch in her voice. 

"It's warded," I say flatly.

"Take me there!" she screeches.

"No!" I shout. 

Buffy wraps Anya up in a Slayer's strength as she and Dawn hold her.

"I never said goodbye," Anya whispers. "I never said goodbye. I never took the time."

"Time," Buffy says suddenly.

"Time," Buffy repeats carefully. She holds Anya at arms length. "Those temple demon things Warren and his nerd posse sicced on me," Buffy said sharply, "they can bend time. We can go back and stop this, all of it."

"Temple?" Anya asks puzzled.

"Temporal," I suggest, "I think."

"Rwasundi? Are you crazy?" Anya asks through her tears.

"Why?" Buffy asks angrily.

"Power, that's why." Anya barks. "They're vicious and they eat power, lots of it. That linear time effect eats power like mad. Blood magic is their favorite but they'll take anything, the more powerful the better."

"I can beat these guys," Buffy says quickly, not letting the idea go. "If I wear your amulet I can go back in time."

"Only about a month, at best," Anya says after tapping on her PDA. 

"That much magic will attract Grey's attention," I say carefully. "You can't beat her alone Buffy."

"I'll wake up Anyanka," Buffy starts.

"Whose amulet you'll have to drain to get back," I point out. "Conservation of magic means that it will be drained when you arrive. Since you aren't magically gifted the amulet will head back to Anyanka. You'll slam into a tree at best and inside a tree at worst. And I'll bet the amulet is the only thing keeping her from becoming the tree."

"Wow," Anya says with admiration. "Your mother?" 

I just nod proudly.

"She was a better teacher than I ever had," Anya says quietly.

"You guide me, then," Buffy says quickly. 

"It's only a month and the amulet is still drained," I point out.

"I've got to do something!" Buffy almost shouts.

"I'm magic," Dawn states quietly.

"No," Buffy snaps.

"The time demon thingy likes power," Dawn points out firmly. "I'm the Key, the Key is-"

"NO!" We all snap at once.

"Wow," Dawn says with forced lightness. "That big sister spinal reflex is catching."

"Dawn," Buffy warns, "just don't."

"The clouds in my dreams are getting closer, aren't they Tara" Dawn says firmly, her voice older than her years.

"Yes, but..." I falter trying to come up with a logical argument. "No, not a chance." 

"We've been using Anya's magic," Dawn continued. "Is that going to lead megamage back to Anya? Can Anya beat her?"

"Yes, yes I can," Anya lies. "Centuries of experience. No problem."

"How-"

"No." Buffy says flatly.

"Every bit of magic gone," Dawn says with a quiver in her voice. "Dozens of worlds, billions of people. There's no tower, Buffy. This time it's the Key goes back or the Key dies now because I am not going to let that bitch touch me and make me kill worlds! Going back is at least a chance."

Buffy and Dawn lock eyes and this time I know Dawn won't look away. My mind frantically races to find a way out. Anya looks through the data again, her face set hard, willing another option to appear. Buffy breaks the strained silence.

"We're not going to rush into this," Buffy says with forced calm. "I'm going to take a look at those emotional clouds and see if there's something we've overlooked."

"Fine," Dawn says with equal calmness. "We all go."

"She's right, Buffy," Anya says reluctantly. "I can't keep two separate unreality pockets going."

Buffy just nods.

"Let's go," she says with quiet command. "Tara, show us the way."

I swallow my fear and head toward the frightening clouds. We step out onto a solid looking gray ledge just in front of a black wall of clouds. Buffy and Dawn wince as they get close to the clouds. Anya becomes Anyanka and looks uncomfortable.

"All these emotions, untidy human feelings," Anyanka's voice trails off as she flinches.

"Yeah," Buffy muses as she looks into the darkness. "Stay here," she orders.

Buffy steps into the clouds and is gone. Dawn says her sister's name plaintively but stays in place. I look at the rolling mass closely, feeling sadness and anger wash over me in painful waves. I stumble under the emotional press and brush the clouds. 

I start to fall. I hear Anyanka and Dawn scream my name before blackness envelops me.

**

Chapter Ten

**

**

Darkling Plain

**

Buffy walked into a darkness that felt of far off heat. The smell of burning filled the air as tiny fires smoldered in heaps of rubble. A soft gray rain of ash drifted across the small pools of light; above, the dark clouds cut off all light. Every step the Slayer took crunched under her boots. Ahead a tiny cone of light showed two figures. Buffy walked toward them.

As she came close she could make out Willow kneeling in the pool of light. Her hair was frosted with ash, and on her face was a look of uncomprehending shock and horror. Next to her was an older hawk-nosed woman who wore her anger like a banner. Some sense of familiarity came over Buffy as she looked at the woman next to her friend. She took another step closer. A figure appeared and blocked her way.

"No, Miss Summers," A musical female voice spoke. 

Buffy saw a woman with ebony skin wearing the most conservative dark clothes the Slayer had seen in years. She was neither old nor young, but her eyes held an almost infinite sadness.

"Get out of my way!" Buffy snapped.

"They are not here if you're walking in this time and place," The dark woman explained.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked unafraid.

"I am Michelle," the woman said gently.

"Are you in charge?" Buffy demanded.

"No, you humans are," Michelle answered calmly. "This place is the end of many decisions." 

"What's happening to them?" Buffy asked carefully controlling her anger.

"Miss Rosenberg is seeing the consequences of her decisions," the woman answered coldly. "She stilled a voice and changed the songs."

"Who's she?" Buffy asked pointing at the older woman. "She seems-she's-" Buffy's face softened as she looked at the careworn woman by her friend.

"She is Erin. She's tied to Miss Rosenberg by bonds of hate," Michelle answered firmly. "She hates Miss Maclay nearly as much."

"Why?" Buffy asked, never taking her eyes off the pathetic tableau.

"Erin blames them for the death of her children," Michelle said in a pained voice. "She knows who took the life from the first child she nearly bore."

"Me," Buffy said quietly with absolute conviction.

"You," Michelle confirmed. "Her name was to be Hope. Her song would have been short, but sweet. It would have given strength to other voices, who would have stopped this."

"What happened here?" Buffy said looking at the darkness. "Is this Sunnydale?"

"No, this is the dimension of the Arcadians, your magic pirates," Michelle explained. Then the dark skinned woman pointed at an ash falling near Buffy. "There's part of Sunnydale."

Buffy reluctantly touched the delicate flakes and saw Ernesto's two daughters looking up from their coloring books. She heard them call for

their father as the older one grabbed the younger. Then both disappeared in a flare of green, then red light. Buffy came out of the vision on her knees, wincing from the light.

"How?" was all she could manage.

"The Hellmouth was deeper than anyone knew and the Key stronger than Miss Grey thought," Michelle said as she looked into something Buffy couldn't see. "More and more worlds fell until a maelstrom of magic tore apart all things the Hellmouth ever touched. The Key flared out and dark silence came."

"The Key is a girl," Buffy snapped defensively. "Her name is Dawn."

"Not anymore," Michelle countered sadly. "There are no names here."

"All of the fighting, the nights of patrolling, losing innocents and friends and family," Buffy wailed. "All of it was for this? WHY?"

"Because decisions were made that led here," Michelle insisted. "And because you weren't there to stop it."

"ME?" Buffy screamed angrily. "I did everything I could!"

"Yes, you did," Michelle said with a sad pride in her voice. "You chose a crescendo of life and hope to go out on Miss Summers. It was a bravura performance. But instead of building on your song in their own voices, your friends chose to bring you back to reassure them, to comfort them. Their decision tore an overture of hope out of where it was needed. They broke the music, and when it started up again, it was a dirge."

Buffy looked at the angry hawk-faced woman next to Willow.

"Hope was her name- our name?" Buffy wondered out loud in a tired voice.

"Your name to be," Michelle explained. "Erin wanted you very much. The hunger was over, a man loved her enough to stay, and band of scavengers were becoming a community, maybe more. You were a joy to them. Losing you devastated them. There were other children later, two

of them, but by then some had given up, and in giving up they died, or worse."

"And their world?" Buffy wondered.

Michelle pointed to a falling ash again. Buffy grimaced and touched it. The angry woman's face and those of a thin boy and girl looked back at her coldly. Their deaths had been hard. The children's necks bore wounds Buffy had seen too often before. The Slayer stood up after she shook away the image. She glared at Michelle.

"Where were you?" Buffy demanded.

"Letting humans make their own decisions," Michelle answered defensively.

"Willow was tied to the Hellmouth, Xander had no magic, Anya was trying to understand humanity again and Tara was raised by people who told her she was a demon," Buffy said with anger, advancing on Michelle.

"Results of decisions made by other humans," Michelle pointed out.

"Well here's this human's decision," Buffy declared angrily. "This isn't going to happen!"

"You can't change this now," Michelle insisted. "It will take more than a Slayer to stop this."

Buffy grabbed the taller woman by the somber clothing Michelle wore and pulled the woman's face down to her level.

"Watch me," Buffy snarled.

Buffy pushed Michelle away and strode off in her own tracks in the ash. The Slayer disappeared into the darkness.

Michelle smiled.

--------------------------------------------

Dawn leapt to where Tara had been an instant earlier. Grayness surrounded her as she called out Tara's and then Buffy's name. 

"They'll be along in a moment," a kindly old voice said.

Dawn whipped around to see the oldest woman she had ever seen. Her dark face was lined and proud, but there was a gentleness there also. The cane she leaned on was covered with stars that seemed to move over the blue- black wood like a slice of the night sky. 

"Excuse me, ma'am," Dawn said politely, trying to cover up her surprise. "Have you seen my friend or my sister? Are they all right?"

"They'll be along in a moment, Dawn," the old woman said confidently. "Go that way and wait, young lady."

The grayness lit up around a normal looking doorframe. Dawn reached for the knob with a touch of concern, but not fear. Just before she opened the door the old woman spoke again.

"Dawn, you've done all right, all things considered," the woman said gently.

"I could have done better," Dawn insisted softly as she looked over her shoulder.

"So learn, and remember," the old one said smiling. "Now go on, girl."

Dawn stepped through the door, her face a study in thought. 

"Michelle," the old woman muttered resignedly as she shook her head.

------------------------------------------------

Anyanka reached for Dawn half a heartbeat too late. A wisp of cloud touched the woman's hand. She heard thousands of voices scream for vengeance in their last moments. Anyanka knew she was the target for the hate of a spiteful host of beings. Their anger etched its way into her core. She fell into the corrosive calls for vengeance and knew no more.

------------------------------------------------

Tara looked at a grove of oaks, her spirit stilled as she felt their calm come over her. Then a malignant sunset of green and red tore the stand of stately trees into splinters that flared briefly against darkness, leaving nothing but ash behind.

Again and again, a holy place or a handful of dedicated people of all the faiths she knew and ones she could only imagine tried to hold back the sweeping darkness on hundreds of worlds and perished, their light going out forever. All hope disappeared in a wall of unending despair that ripped her apart. The witch fell in a heap.

When Tara opened her eyes again a tall dark skinned woman dressed in somber colors looked down at her with disappointment.

"Why didn't you stand for the light, for hope, for what you knew was right?" the woman asked sadly.

Tara reached a trembling hand to the woman through the echoes of pain in her soul.

"Please," Tara begged in a shattered voice.

"I can not help you in this," the woman declared as she walked away.

Tara howled as the darkness closed in on her.

------------------------------------------------

Buffy strode out onto the ledge. Dawn was next to Anya, helping her up. Tara was shaking and clutching her arms to herself but getting up. Buffy walked to the edge, then looked back at the three women behind her.

"Take us back to Sunnydale," Buffy said in a hard tone.

**

Chapter Eleven

**

I don't remember much about the trip back to Sunnydale. The clouds had been frightening, now they were terror itself and every second away from them was a blessing. I could never have imagined that the table from the Magic Box in some unreality would be so welcome.

We collapse into our seats. Buffy looks at the table for a long moment, and when she raises her head she seems at least a decade older.

"Anya, how long will it take you to get a time shifter demon?" Buffy asks calmly.

Anyanka looks at her PDA with concentration then touches her amulet.

"About two minutes if I just call and skip subtlety," she answers. 

"How long to control one?" Buffy asks wearily, not rising to Anyanka and subtlety.

"I don't know," she admits. "I think I remember some texts saying a hero just leapt on a Rwasundi and contained it by strength and force of will for hundreds of heartbeats. But the same story says the hero ended up going back a thousand days past his target and still didn't save his true love."

I try to keep a calm exterior through Anya's story. I tell myself that it's better to have all the information than none. 

"Dawn, your will and your strength are going to be the only controls you have," Anya says emphatically. "Tara can't touch it, and then the Buffy and me that know what's happening are going to be in the future. We get one shot at this and you're it."

"I'm stronger than most heroes," Dawn pipes up proudly, "at least when I have to be."

"But you're not a Slayer," Buffy points out quickly, "and this thing will be trying to rip your Keyness out along with your throat."

"So it's not a merry go round horse," Dawn observes coldly. "I'm still the one who's got to do it."

"What's to keep Miss Grey here and not chasing Dawn?" I ask in what I hope is a calm voice.

"Me," both Buffy and Anya answer.

"Maybe a glamour," Dawn starts to suggest.

"She'll see through it," I point out firmly.

I don't like the look both Buffy and Anya have on their faces as they both shake their heads. They know this is an all or nothing plan, and the best-case scenario is one living girl arriving in Sunnydale months ago.

"We buy time," Buffy says gently, "and trust you to make the most of it."

Anya and I just nod. Dawn is silent as she realizes she's been given adult status by the one person she's wanted it from most and had it confirmed by the rest of us. The change is tiny, but she seems to hold herself just a bit straighter.

"Where or when am I going?" Dawn asks levelly. "Back to the point where Warren shot Tara?"

"NO!" I shout with fear-filled anger and startle all of them. "There's a bullet flying through that room!"

"You could live," Dawn says with a soft voice.

"And you could die!" I snap as I stand and lean across the table. "Where are you gonna come out, Dawn? The demon's not on rails; what if you come out in back of me and the bullet takes us both? What if you die saving me? What if Willow lashes out at the demon to protect me and hits you? What if she just loses it? Who's going to remember I'm there, or the Hellmouth, or Miss Grey, or Willow having a tie to the Hellmouth? Who's going to remember Gwen?"

With Gwen's name Dawn looks down for a moment. Buffy and Anya look unhappy. They hear the truth in my words and hate it. 

"I want to live, Dawn," I say soothingly, "but not if there's a chance my living is going to kill someone I love."

"If I ever find a way," Dawn starts in a determined voice.

"I'll be there to make sure you don't do something stupidly brave," I warn.

"Great, I get the spirit chaperone," Dawn says with forced lightness.

"When do we send Dawn back to, if that makes any sense?" Buffy muses.

"My funeral," I suggest. "Everybody, you know, ielse/i was alive then."

"I hated your funeral," Dawn says with a wince.

"It sucked," Anya agrees.

"I thought all of you did it up kind of nice," I say with an enthusiasm that sounds false even to me.

"Nothing jumped us there," Buffy points out carefully.

"I just hope my not seeing myself when I go back doesn't mean something bad for the trip back," I worry out loud. It's a bad habit.

"You don't see yourself because you're not the same person," Buffy said with a thoughtful frown. "Even if you go back to the same place again you've changed, so nothing is ever the same."

I keep forgetting how deep my friend can be sometimes. 

"Change is the only constant," I answer, a bit afraid of the idea I knew was true. "But we don't get a choice on some of those changes."

"Most of them," Buffy says with sad conviction. Then Dawn smiles.

"If there's going to be so much change then I'm gonna need more clothes," the teenager said brightly. "Gotta be ready for anything."

"The Summers' corollary of change," I observe dryly, looking at Buffy.

"Sounds good to me," Buffy replies with a real chuckle and smile.

"Remember she said that, please Tara," Dawn says with her puppy eyes she thinks I can't say no to (I can, really).

"Dawn," Anya chides, "Tara isn't a PDA or a DayRunner™."

"Very true," I say with gravity. "I'd have cute leather covers in all sorts of colors."

"Besides I didn't say you're getting more clothes," Buffy points out. "Or getting Driver's Ed this year either."

"Or dates until you're sixteen again, either," Anya adds. 

Dawn gaped at Anya and then Buffy. Finally she turned her head to me and I just shook my head no.

"Great," Dawn says with a roll of her eyes, "that big sister reflex is getting a real workout."

"You missed it," Buffy says in a gently teasing voice.

"Only a little," Dawn admits with a shy, trying-not-to-smile look that makes me swear I will find a way to hug her and every one of them someday. 

"What are we sending back?" Buffy asks thoughtfully. "I mean in our not a PDA Tara?"

We go over the salient points quickly until I feel I could recite them in my sleep, if I ever sleep again. Anya's been fingering her amulet. Dawn looks pensive.

"What about Gwen?" She asks carefully.

"Who's Gwen?" Anya asks baldly.

"A friend," Buffy answers softly, "one who died with no one to help."

Anya is about to protest when I look her in the eye. She just nods.

"I'll check on Miss Grey and if there's time I'll see when Gwen came to Sunnydale," I say firmly. 

The trip to Miss Grey's proves Anya's better at magic than she thought. It's been minutes. I try not to look at the people being used like things, but I can tell Miss Grey is still very distracted. I hurry on to Gwen.

I don't go back to her death, but rather push to the day she and Dawn met in the "Jack". It works. Now I know I don't have to follow the whole time chain. I follow her and hear the now familiar "300 kid" meaning she's a ward of the State of California. I follow her time line back quickly, partly because it feels "off", and partly because time has slowed but not stopped. I follow her back almost to the week after my funeral. I speed down her timeline to emotional knots.

I watch a bright child scrounge for shelter in alleys, beg and steal food. She doesn't take anything she doesn't need. A box and a couple of pallets become her home. I see a green trash bag with everything she owns carefully hidden inside. I see a vampire trying to get her to come out of her "home", then try other prey, only it's Xander, trying to give Buffy a break on her patrolling. He looks exhausted after the fight. I remember the night. The next day Gwen finds her "boyfriend" and starts carrying his crystal meth so the police can only arrest a juvenile. 

I see the bastard tell Gwen he loves her and ask if she loves him. Gwen starts to prove how much she loves him in the only way the child expects anyone to love her. 

I lived in paradise and never knew it. I leave quickly.

The others have just blinked and I'm back. Dawn looks at me, her eyes growing wide at my look. 

"Gwen will be in the alley behind the bookstore near the Espresso Pump a week after my funeral," I say tightly. 

"What about her scum boyfriend?" Dawn asks with a snarl.

"We'll have a week before he gets his hands on her," I answer firmly.

"What about Miss Grey?" Buffy asks, her own anger carefully controlled.

"She's still distracted, only more so," I say with distaste.

"Anya, are you ready?" Buffy asks quickly.

"As ready as I can be," Anya answers evenly.

"Tara?" Buffy looks at me, her face a mask.

"I know the way I'm going," I say with some actual confidence.

"Dawn?" I hear a tiny catch in Buffy's voice.

"Ready," Dawn answers with a similar catch. 

Buffy stands up and looks at each of us, finishing with a long look at Dawn.

"Let's go," the Slayer commands.


	4. Chapter 12 and Epilogue

**

Chapter Twelve

**

We step out of the bubble onto the sunlit sidewalk in front of the boarded up Magic Box. There's a tired _Opening Soon_ banner hanging across the panel across the door. Anyanka looks at us and takes out her amulet. It's just Anya that takes it off and walks over to Buffy. I can't explain it, she doesn't look any different, but Anyanka is gone.

"I have a plan," Anya says hesitantly. "It's a backup for Dawn in case something happens to Tara, and it's a way to backup the information." 

"Your amulet?" Dawn asks worriedly. "What about you?"

"I'll get it back months from now," Anya points out. "It won't be much good against Grey anyway. I'm going to summon, cast a glamour and then give it to you. I've recorded the information we needed." 

"What about Gwen?" Dawn asks pointedly. 

Anya sighs and turns around, speaking low into her amulet.

"Ready?" Anya asks. "This is going to be quick when it gets here." 

"Just one more thing," Dawn says quickly. She pulls her hair back, tucks it under her collar, zips up her jumpsuit and nods mostly to herself. She hugs Buffy and Anya quickly.

"Ready," Dawn says tightly.

Buffy stands to Anya's right; Dawn and I are behind Buffy. Anya chants the first few words of a basic summoning when the Rwasundi pops into being. It leaps around in time but I can see it clearly. I step quickly behind it and call out to Buffy. The demon looks surprised when her fist sends him to the ground for a second.

Dawn leaps to its back. She places an arm under its chin and levers the thing's head around. Buffy nods and Anya places her amulet's chain around Dawn's neck. The demon shifts but stops when Dawn tightens his grip.

"Back in time on my will," Dawn orders in the coldest tone I've ever heard from her. "I don't have anything to lose. Tara, don't look back."

I start back along Dawn's trail in time, skipping to the week before she could see me. The first shift goes without problems. I sense a green glow behind me as I focus on traveling towards my funeral. 

Suddenly, I feel an image. That's the only way I can describe it. Anya is terrified but determined as a light fills the sky over Sunnydale. A moment later, Miss Grey is angry, frustrated and uneasy as she leaves her bed, summons her clothes and arrives in front of the Magic Box's tired shell. Buffy's pent up rage lets loose in a blow that would fell a tree. Miss Grey's magic blocks most of the blow but fear now brings an edge to her.

Anya is glowing like a searchlight, all surface magic and nothing else. Miss Grey takes the bait and turns her attention toward my friend. Something familiar and horrific is touched and I know Miss Grey has reached for her grisly magic focus. Anya is all fatalistic angry resignation as she grabs the bone and opens herself to its power. Buffy grabs Anya as she arches with one hand and shatters the focus with the other. Miss Grey is shock, horror, and anger that mere animals should be such trouble for her. Buffy and Anya are filled with fierce joy. There's a light past brightness.

The clouds disappear and a wall of bright white light roars behind us as we race through time. At Xander's death, I notice Dawn' green light behind me changing to a brighter green. I concentrate as I close on Willow's funeral and Dawn's sham court appearance. Willow's death makes me ache but when we pass the last day they were together, I almost sob in relief. I know Dawn will save her. I see them weeping after my funeral. That's when Dawn's light changes.

The green light becomes chaotic as pain and anger war with fear, a fear of failure. I look back to see Dawn, drenched with sweat, writhing as the Rwasundi claws her arm. She's straining to keep her hold but her bloodied arm gives and the demon bites her arm. His mouth glows green as Dawn slumps on his back. I turn back in a rage, reaching for him before I think and a shaft of green light touches me.

I am power itself. I feel time slow, and I know I can save them all; heal them all. I touch Dawn and feel a warm arm, rough jumpsuit, and warm sticky blood. Dawn looks up at me and smiles.

"You're alive," she says simply in happy wonder, but her voice is tired and weak.

Somehow I know that I can save all of them except this lean young woman. I command the Rwasundi to head towards my funeral. We move gently. Dawn is smiling as we approach the hour. 

"Dawn," I say gently as I touch her face. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she insists sleepily. She's losing her grip on the demon. 

I touch her arm and force all the power I can back into her. Dawn's eyes snap open as she jerks to wakefulness. 

"No! Tara-" Dawn starts.

The Rwasundi for a split second has nothing controlling it and leaps. The demon is true to its nature and heads for the Hellmouth. Dawn tries to get her grip back but only partially succeeds.

I lose contact with Dawn before all the power can travel back to her. Dawn is trying to control the Rwasundi but failing, her fear building as she sees a blackness ahead, an evil mass that starts to become agitated. I touch the last vestiges of the Key's power and place myself between the Hellmouth and them. Dawn knows the danger and pulls back with all her strength. The demon's neck snaps.

The Rwasundi's death throes attract the Hellmouth and a long jet of evil tries to touch the dying thing. I summon a wall but it falls almost instantly. I push everything I have into the probing darkness. I'm losing, and then Dawn calls out "Taraaa", her fear for me and my safety echo in my heart. I think of my family and I feel the love and the pain, acceptance and loss. Emotions so basic and deep I can't put them in words or hold them back. I ride them and the Key's power into the darkness that flails for Dawn.

I am the Hellmouth for a heartbeat, then two, then three. Pain is inadequate to explain what I feel; horror is an echo of what I see. A million things try to sort themselves out in my head as I flail against the darkness. Then the darkness retreats almost angrily without touching Dawn. A split second of relief fills me until I see Dawn's head jerk back as the demon's final convulsion slams its head into hers. The two limp forms separate.

Dawn and I are falling into the linear flow of time. The demon's body falls ahead of us. It's smoking as the energy it touched in Dawn consumes it. 

I see Dawn, now limp, heading towards Anya and see Giles with my friend. Far off I see my Willow cradled in Xander's strong arms and Buffy walking in a beautiful California morning with a Dawn just a little younger and much more innocent. Hope fills the morning. I touch the older Dawn just before we touch the linear time flow and try to cradle her still form. I feel her heartbeat, faint but steady. She's alive. I hold her and cry in relief.

We touch the world. There's a flare of emerald light. 

Dawn and I come into time in the Magic Box. I'm too weak to hold her. It takes everything I have just to ease her to the littered floor and place my hand on hers. I can feel the pain in my chest front to back that marks the trail of the bullet that killed me, but I'm alive. This isn't how it's supposed to be. I can't give Dawn back the last bit of the Key's energy I have, and I don't know why. I feel her heartbeat under my hand grow irregular. I hear Giles whisper my name in fearful wonder.

"Help her, please," I croakingly sob. "I'm losing her."

Giles calls out for Anya. I turn my head to see her kneeling in the doorway, one hand on her amulet in her sweater and the other to her head. Anya looks up, confused. Her eyes are emerald green.

"Giles, bind to the earth," Anya says quickly.

"Bind to the what?" Giles asks.

"Watch," Anya says.

Anya takes Giles hand in hers. For a moment there is silence. Giles and Anya look at me. They release their clasp as Giles turns toward us.

"Good Lord," he whispers.

"What do we do?" Anya asks brightly.

"Go to the other side of Dawn and hold her hand," Giles commands gently.

I feel fear, loss and desperation closing on us. I try to focus. It's fast, inhumanly so with the crush of emotions fueling her. Buffy bursts into the wreckage that was the Magic box. 

"Dawn!" Buffy cries out and rushes toward us.

"Buffy!" Giles roars, then more gently, "Keep her head up."

Buffy stops at Giles voice then cradles her sister's head on her lap and looks to Giles in fearful hope. Giles takes my hand and looks at Anya. I can feel his concern and sense an odd power in him.

"Now, gently push just what isn't yours into Dawn," Giles orders. "Tara, let go for a second."

I reluctantly let go of Dawn's hand. Buffy looks at me.

"Tara?" Buffy asks in a weak voice. "What? How?"

"It's okay," Dawn says weakly. "Giles an' Xander an' Willow are alive."

Anya looks wobbly but she's got a proud grin on her face that lights up the room. 

"Time," Anya starts to babble with a slight slur. "The Hellmouth, and Willow and tree nymph meditation spell, what crap, But that stock is a loser. Oh, I see. Who's Gwen? Basic Power!" 

"That doesn't- that's not how it works," she adds with a puzzled frown.

"Willow," Dawn says quietly.

"She's alive," Giles reassures her.

"Tara, can you take it away?" Dawn asks weakly.

"Don't," I start weakly, "you need the power-" 

"I'll have one of you at least," Dawn answers. I hear the plea in her voice.

Buffy and the rest really look at me for the first time. I can see the sleeves of the blue top I wore the day I died. I don't think I'm bleeding because I should be empty. With that thought, I feel stickiness all down my back where I had lain dead in a pool of my own blood. I guess the autopsy was delayed. Giles and Buffy seem to understand part of what Dawn is saying, hear the loss in her voice. Their silent looks of pain reflect Dawn's. 

"No," Anya says with groggy anger a moment later.

I don't answer her. I just close my eyes. I see Willow in Xander's arms. I can feel my protection spell on him, no longer fading but coming back to strength now that I'm alive for a moment. My spell for Willow spell is gone completely. 

I was following her on love alone.

I use Xander as my base, but my spell won't let me touch him any more than that. I fear what that means. It comes to me in a sickening rush. Dark magic is keeping me alive. That's why I can't push the last bit of the Key's power into Dawn, because I'd have to use my magic to seal it to her. I touched the Hellmouth for three full heartbeats. Three is enough my mother taught me. The Hellmouth is giving me power and life.

I reach for Willow's tie to the Hellmouth. It's huge now, spread through every part of her. Willow's own magic is used up. No wonder she couldn't break the darkness that drove her to suicide! Willow whispers my name with love. Xander tightens his grip trying to will his strength into hers; I sense his hope that she's finally mourning me. I take strength from them and do what I have to for her. I call to the binding, dark power to dark power, and it tears out of her. 

Willow calls out my name in horror and pain. For a second she can feel my presence. I can't explain it to her and that tears me. I touch a spark of living green light to the raw psychic wound to help heal her. Willow slumps, then cries brokenly in Xander's arms. I hear her betrayed sobbing as I come back to myself in the Magic Box. Touching the darkness has made me tired to the bone. I hate it and the dark follows my commands with loathing.

"It's...gone," I whisper to Dawn.

Giles takes my hand in his. Anya takes Dawn's other hand and grasps it tightly between both her hands. I feel so tired I can't think. Giles says my name gently and all I can do is nod weakly.

"Tara, I'm going to give you just enough power to push the energy into Dawn," Giles explains gently. "The power's not mine, so Anya is going to push back any that isn't needed. I see the darkness don't worry. Are you ready?"

I give another tiring nod and steady myself. I'm afraid but I know I won't live unless I can be on the side of Light. I have no defense to drop so I give every bit of energy I have left to clearing a way for Giles' borrowed power so it won't touch the creeping evil. 

"Now," Giles says. 

Time slows as Giles lets down his defenses and the power flows into me. I'm glad of it; this beautiful essence of magic is everything I could have wanted. I know it's not mine but its passage through me is pure joy. It envelops the last vestige of the Key's power I have and the green streams into Dawn. I see that most of the Key's power is gone. Dawn as the Key will never be a danger again. Dawn as a teenager and young woman is going to have a unique path. I can see so much for her, as full as any young human with potential for good and evil. I'm glad she has her family. 

I see Anya's power touch Giles'. There's a touch of imbalance. I can see she's pushing too hard. She's bound to the earth, but still pushing hard. Anya and subtlety are still getting acquainted. Giles moves, swiftly in the real world, but gently here. The power is about to touch me when I feel his hand cover the wound on my back. The power surges toward his hand, and in its wake the dark power leaps after it. Giles is bound to the earth but unshielded and defenseless against the darkness. His is a healing power, something that can't have defenses. 

"No!" I shriek here. "Shield yourself!" In the Magic Box all they hear is a murmur.

I stand in front of the dark magic that surges toward Giles. Anya, Giles, Dawn and Buffy are linked. I touch love and rage and leap to defend my father, my family. I pull the darkness away from Giles. Ever so slowly he pulls away from me. The darkness screams in frustrated rage and tears at me to get him, to get them. I tear into it with the fierce joy I felt from Anya and Buffy as they fought their forlorn action against Miss Grey. I'm already gone but I'm taking this bastard power with me.

Giles pulls away untainted. I fall into the darkness knowing I've won. I know the healing failed because the true magic left no trace. Then Dawn takes a huge breath. There's a bright green light that turns to white.

---------------------------------------------

Buffy, Dawn, Anya and I are in a white room positioned just as we were in the Magic Box. At least I think it's a room. I'm not sure of anything. There's the somber lady from the clouds at the end of time standing by us and a woman who wears a hard life on her face and pride in her stance next to her. There's a sense of waiting in the air. My friends are still, almost posed. I lift my head and look at the standing older women. 

"I refuse vengeance," the careworn woman says looking at Dawn and Buffy with tears in her eyes. "But a life is owed."

"It is," the somber woman answers. "There is another who could take the debt, Erin."

"Not her!" Erin, the hawk faced woman, snaps. "She is tainted."

"Not now," the dark skinned woman answers. My heart leaps at those words in this place.

"Take me," I say, expecting a croaking noise, but just hearing me.

"You're dead," Erin says angrily. 

"Almost," the somber woman says. She looks at Erin and I know somehow that she's the mother whose child I helped to steal away when we took back Buffy. "Choose."

The mother looks at my sisters in heart. I can see Erin's come to a decision, and it's not me. 

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" I scream as I charge her.

I killed a demon with an axe and helped hunt vampires. I thought I learned how to fight in that summer. Erin shows me how wrong I am. I hear something break and feel agony run up my arm. She turns back to them as she steps away from me. I charge, off balance and weak. The dark magic giving me life can't give me power here. She shows me again how much I don't know about violence. This time she stays over me and hits me. Tears are streaming down her face, and I feel sorry about that, even as she hits me.

"You knew better!" Erin cries. "You could have stopped it! WHY?"

All I can do is sob how sorry I am as I look into those pain-filled eyes.

Buffy stops her arm is mid swing. It's not just the Slayer looking into those haunted eyes; it's Buffy, all of her. 

"Look at her, Momma," Buffy says gently.

Erin looks at me and sees me, battered and bleeding, and then herself fighting and losing, watching her children die, my useless attempts to save my family and Gwen. All the images blend together until the woman just sags weeping into Buffy's arms with a soft wail of pain that pierces the three of us to the soul.

Buffy becomes her shelter as strong young arms hold Erin's weeping form and stroke her hair, murmuring soft assurances that give comfort beyond thoughtful knowing. Finally the mother looks into Buffy's eyes and returns her caress as Buffy and she say goodbye to the might have been we took from them. Erin looks toward the dark lady.

"A life is owed, but she is already dead, or will be," Erin says tiredly pointing at me. "Can she take it, Michelle?"

"It is just possible," this Michelle answers. 

I look at the dark woman from the future and those terrifying clouds. I hold up my hand and whisper desperately.

"Please?"

The pain is almost as bad as the Hellmouth holding me, but different in a way I can't describe.

"A life is owed, and the debt is yours," the somber woman declares. "Now is not the time for payment. Know this, if you die before this debt is paid, one other of these will be held for the debt."

In a second I go from wild joy to dread. My failure condemns someone I love. I'll carry this until the debt comes due. I've lived in Sunnydale too long not to know what a life owed means.

Michelle looks up and says, "It is done and over. Leave this place."

"Make me," Buffy says as she crosses her arms.

"B-Buffy that's not such a good idea," I say frightened for her. I felt this woman's power.

"I don't choose to go, Michelle," Buffy says tightly as she advances on the dark skinned woman of power. "Are your bosses gonna be happy when they notice someone's been messing with their mojo to make this pretty room and do something to my sister and my friends. I'm betting you're really an assistant to an assistant."

"You presume much, Slayer," she answers with a powerful echo to her voice

"Anya, does your amulet tell you things that make sense magically?" Buffy asks casually. "Or do some things just not fit?"

"It's confused, but it doesn't quite fit," Anya says with a questioning tone and a tilt to her head. "It's off just a bit."

"Tara, did you and Dawn decide on your very dangerous plan?" Buffy asks in a way that makes me want her to ask someone else.

"Um, yes," I admit meekly. "But we had to, there wasn't any other way. Other people made decisions that were going to kill everything. You and Anya decided too," I add defensively.

"We'll discuss this later," Buffy snaps, then gives Michelle a smile that's more baring her teeth. "How long is it going to be before someone comes looking? I think I've got more time than you do, especially here. Warrior of the Light' and Chosen One' and all that. You got any snacks?"

For a moment, Michelle almost vibrates with frustration. Then she sighs and looks around her with some apprehension.

"What do you want?" Michelle asks Buffy in a defeated tone.

Buffy turns to her would-be mother.

"What happened?" Buffy asks gently.

"When we lost you, Hope, it drove some off in despair," Erin says tiredly, closing her eyes. "That night one fled back to us in terror. We stupidly saw only our lost one coming home, not the life drinker he had become."

"Vampire," Buffy said flatly. "Hope?"

The woman just nods and took a ragged breath as Buffy gives a tiny, sad smile.

"We have no name for them. There were none before the magic failed, before the destruction and the Great Hunger. They were a new horror. That night we learned how strong they were, and how clever. Your brother tried to save your sister. They couldn't get out. They were just out of reach of the latch. I insisted the latch be out of their reach so they wouldn't wander out. I wanted them to be safe."

Buffy holds Erin as the hard woman struggles with a pain I can understand too well. Our tears match.

"Here's how this is going to happen," Buffy states to Michelle. "You're gonna open a door to where I was supposed to go, and I'm going to do what I was supposed to do."

Her last words are aimed with angry reproach at me. I know she's right but I can only see the danger my coming back has placed her in. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

"There's only one way now to get to that door," Michelle warns. "I can't keep that door open."

"I will," Anya and I answer. Anya still sounds a touch shaky but there's a new understanding in her voice.

"And Will and Xander," Buffy says firmly. That feels right, but not quite complete.

"And me," Dawn says with a calm that makes Buffy hold the "no" that was coming automatically.

"There's so much I want to show you," Buffy says after a moment, seeing Dawn as a young woman for the first time here.

"We'll just get through this first," Dawn says with a brittle laugh.

"How do we get to the door?" Buffy asks Michelle quickly.

The poor Magic Box is starting to form around us. Michelle is fading. 

"Tara will be your guide, and your family your anchor," She explains. "You must go to Erin's world through the Hellmouth."

"How can Tara guide us through the Hellmouth?" Buffy asks angrily.

"Her life is tied to it until the debt is fully paid," Michelle's voice says sadly. "It was the only way I could keep her alive."

**

Epilogue

**

This isn't how it was supposed to be. 

My family, except for Dawn and I hope Giles, looks at me so hard. Buffy doesn't want Dawn near me. I don't blame her. I'm someone that was supposed to be dead being kept alive by the Hellmouth. But Dawn sees a friend who knows what she's been through. Dawn chafes under Buffy's protection, and there's anger building there. Xander and Willow look lost; they've lived with the lurking evil of the Hellmouth for so long they can't understand how life for something good can come from it. Neither do I.

They're trying to see if it's me or something evil with a trusted friend's face luring their friend to death. Willow feels violated by me on a level she can't explain. I can tell she wants to be happy I'm alive and share it with me. The fact that she can't hurts her deeply. Xander is seeing me: but remembering an old friend of his and the horror of watching a trusted face turn into a killer. Anya is confused and tired. She wonders if the murmurings from her amulet and my return are a trick. Giles is exhausted, hiding his pain from us.

Buffy feels a fear she can't show; not when she has to trust me to do what she knows she must. I see her die in the Hellmouth. Then I see Buffy's true fear. Dawn replaces Buffy in the memory. I wince.

Empathy, magic, my own memories and the flashes of almost memory from the Hellmouth mix into insights so dark it makes me huddle in the wreckage of a place I loved. The morning's hope is gone and I can't find it anywhere. What if I'm being filled with the evil that consumed the woman I love? How can I guide Buffy to where she's driven to go?

I look up to see Willow holding onto Xander's arm so tightly, trying to understand what's happened in the space of a day. Xander is holding her hand on his arm. I feel jealousy and remember a broken woman and a man who loved her trying to find comfort for just a night. The jealousy and the power the emotion brings from a dark place I am so aware of now frightens me. Will I hurt him? Will I hurt Willow, my everything? Will I hurt them, or will they never be now?

All I had were feelings in death; briefly I had hope. Now I doubt everything I knew then for fear of falling to the darkness that took my Willow. In a flash, I know I want Willow for myself. Is it love or the Hellmouth trying to get her back?

My doubt fills me. A shard of broken glass rests gently under my fingers. I touch it, take it gently in my hand and remember broken things have the sharpest edges. I stop and put it down gently. The only thing keeping that cold edge off my wrists is the knowledge that someone I love will take the debt of a life owed that's keeping me alive. It might be any of them. It might be Willow.

Love for a woman who can't trust me and love for the family I'm tearing apart keeps me alive for now.

This isn't how it was supposed to be.

**

NEXT: A Forlorn Hope

**


End file.
